


Broken Car, Lemon Bar

by inhystereks



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe, Angst, But like a little bit of angst, Daddy Kink, Derek Has a Sweet Tooth, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mechanic Derek, Mechanic Derek Hale, Oblivious Scott, Oblivious Stiles, POV Derek, POV Stiles, Slow Build, Slow Burn, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-03 11:46:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13340613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inhystereks/pseuds/inhystereks
Summary: Stiles got out of his car so whoever was coming wouldn't think he was just being an asshole and stopped in the middle of the road on purpose. He almost laughed when he caught sight of the approaching car. A black Camaro. Which meant Derek Hale was the one slowing down to pull up behind him. The town mechanic and also the scariest fucker around.Oh, sweet irony.He was exactly the person Stiles desperately needed and was also terrified of.Perfect.





	1. Chapter 1

The Jeep stopped suddenly.

It wasn’t the usual slow, groaning decrease of speed that Stiles could verbally and lovingly coax back up to full speed, or that at least gave him enough warning to pull over to the side of the road.

The engine just cut. Right there, in the middle of the road.

Stiles dropped his head onto his steering wheel with a heartfelt groan.

His dad was going to kill him. He’d definitely commented that the jeep was making a weird sound. Stiles had noticed the sound, but also didn't want to ask for the money to pay for whatever was making the sound, so he’d just laughed it off. And now he was stranded.

He glanced on either side of him, already knowing he wouldn’t see anyone else he could flag down. He was on a back road that wasn’t really popular. 

He picked up his phone. Hopefully, Scott wasn't with Allison or his new posse. Stiles wished for a moment that he was still the only person Scott was interested in hanging out with. But that was selfish, so he tried his best to squash it.

‘ _Here’s hoping,_ ’ he thought as he tapped Scott's contact. The phone cut out mid ring. Ignored. He tried again. Ignored. He tried a third time. Ignored.

Stiles banged his head on the steering wheel. Clearly, if he was calling 3 times in a row, it was probably an emergency. Like why else would he be calling so consistently? Then again, Stiles had done this before when it wasn’t important. Sometimes he just really needed to tell someone what he’d learned after an Adderall fueled Wiki spiral. So he guessed Scott couldn't be blamed too much. After a few more minutes passed, he tried again.

‘ _Please pick up. Please pick up. Please pick up_ ,’ Stiles prayed. His phone beeped and for a moment he thought Scott had ignored his call again. Then he realized his phone had died. Now he couldn’t call anyone. Great.

He definitely had no idea how to fix his car. It would probably make everything worse if he even tried. Town was pretty far and it would take him forever to walk back. Also, he wouldn’t put it past himself to somehow get lost. Hopefully, someone would drive by sooner or later.

An hour and a half later, Stiles’ hope was starting to wane. It was getting dark quickly and it was even more quickly getting cold. Stiles thought he might have to screw up his courage and try to find his way back to town.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, his ears picked up on the sound of an engine.

Thank fuck, too, because he definitely was not about walking at least a mile in the cold at night. Stiles got out of his car so whoever was coming wouldn't think he was just being an asshole and stopped in the middle of the road on purpose. He almost laughed when he caught sight of the approaching car. A black Camaro. Which meant Derek Hale was the one slowing down to pull up behind him. The town mechanic and also the scariest fucker around.

Oh, sweet irony. 

He was exactly the person Stiles desperately needed and was also terrified of.

Perfect.

The Camaro braked and after a moment, out stepped Derek Hale, all tall, dark, and dangerous. And handsome. Because goddamn the man was fine. Had he forgotten to mention that? Because it was true. Those cheekbones. That stubble. Those muscles. That leather jacket. Those eyes. _That ass._ Derek was so... not the type of person you should be attracted to, Stiles shouted at himself. But he couldn't help but stare as Derek swaggered over to him. Did the man know no decent way to walk? Probably not, given how tight his jeans were. Though, Stiles could definitely appreciate what the denim did for his thighs. Holy god.

“Problem?” Derek demanded more than asked with a glare so fierce Stiles could physically feel it.

Which sent his rapidly moving brain skittering into thoughts of how easily someone of Derek's strength and stature could harm him. And they just happened to be alone on a dark road with the woods literally feet away. Stiles was really hoping he wouldn't get murdered and buried in the woods.

“My car broke down,” he said slowly. He needed to stay calm. Dogs could smell fear. Not that Derek was a dog, but he shouldn't let a predator know he was afraid was the point.

Derek was looking at the Jeep now. “Not surprising,” he said flatly. “That thing is a piece of junk.”

“Don't talk about my baby that way,” Stiles snapped, deeply affronted.

“I'll talk about your baby, if it's a piece of shit,” Derek replied.

“It was my mom's, you asshole.” Stiles was embarrassed by the way his voice cracked with emotion when Derek's head drew back slightly. He looked between Stiles and his Jeep with new understanding. Stiles almost wished he could take the words back, but fuck if he was going to let someone say some shit about his mom's Jeep. No one got to do that. Not even Derek Hale.

Derek didn't apologize, but he did offer more softly, “I'm a mechanic. Do you want me to take a look?” 

Stiles hesitated, wondering whether he should continue being offended. But it wasn't worth it. Not when he could already tell Derek wouldn't give him a straight-up apology.

“Sure. Thanks,” he said. Derek nodded and headed to the front of his Jeep.

“Pop the hood,” he ordered. Stiles hurried to comply. “Does your phone have a flashlight?” Derek asked. 

“Um. My phone's dead,” Stiles said. “Part of the reason I'm still here.”

Derek made a low sound that was distantly displeased, but bent down under the hood like not having the light he’d just asked for was no big deal. After surveying the engine and tinkering around with the oil, he sighed. “I can't fix this with just the tools I have in my car. We have to go back to my house for some specific things.”

“We?” Stiles squeaked.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “ You want to stay here in the dark?” 

Stiles had a mental slip and fell into the scene from Beauty and the Beast where the Beast asked, “You want to stay here in the dungeon?”

Just like Belle, he said, “No.”

“Then get in the car,” Derek replied, closing the hood of Stiles's Jeep.

“Um. Are we just going to leave him here?” Stiles asked gesturing to the Jeep.

Derek gave him a look, and Stiles couldn't tell whether it was for asking the question or for calling his Jeep, ‘him.’ 

“Hardly anyone comes down this road, and anyone will see it in their headlights long before they hit it. And…” He paused, frowning. “ I don't think anyone would try to strip it or something.” 

Which was him attempting to politely say no one with an ounce of sense would try to get useful parts out of his Jeep.

Stiles just nodded and walked to the passenger side of the Camaro. Part of him was screaming at the situation he was getting himself into. Stiles was getting into a car with a literal stranger whose very bad reputation preceded him. He was abandoning his Jeep with no other way to get away from Derek. He had no way to contact anyone or let someone know where he was since his phone was dead.

But only a _small_ part was screaming warnings.

The bigger part of him was curious as fuck, because what did Derek Hale's house look like?

“Wow, I just realized I never introduced myself,” Stiles said, as Derek closed the driver's door. “I'm Stiles.”

“Derek Hale,” Derek replied flatly. He obviously already knew that Stiles knew exactly who he was. 

“And you said you’re a mechanic, which means you work at Mo’s right?”

“I own Mo’s.”

“What? I thought…” Stiles started. But then he remembered that the original Mo’s cousin’s son had died under mysterious circumstances and Derek had bought the garage.

Derek’s eyes flicked from the road to Stiles for just a moment.

“Do you like it there?” Stiles asked.

Derek didn’t respond, but Stiles felt there was a questioning note to the silence.

“I just mean, is it interesting, I guess? I don’t know anything at all about cars. Clearly. Since I didn’t know how to fix my Jeep. But I feel like only people with experience and knowledge would have any idea how to fix my Jeep, right?”

“Hn.”

“Honestly, I should just always be prepared for it to break down. It happens often enough,” Stiles said.

“Why…” Derek started. Then he shook his head slightly and fell silent again.

Stiles guessed he’d been about to ask why Stiles didn’t just get a new car, but remembered the Jeep was his mom’s which meant there was absolutely no way he would give it up.

Some people wondered why Derek had chosen to rebuild his own home instead of living somewhere else, but Stiles thought he could understand.

“Yeah,” Stiles said in response to the unasked question. “My dad worries a lot, but it gets me to and from school and to the grocery store so he allows it.”

After a moment of silence, which Stiles was using to silently freak out and also desperately try to come up with something new to talk about, Derek asked, “What grade are you in?”

Stiles barely kept himself from gaping at the man. Barely.

“Um. I’m a sophomore. It’s the worst because I have to take chemistry and my teacher, Harris, is a complete asshole. He loves to pick on me because I’m smart and I do well even though I don’t pay attention. Even though he knows I have ADHD and I literally can’t help the way my mind wanders sometimes,” Stiles said.

“Harris has always been like that,” Derek said.

“Dude, you had Harris?” Stiles exclaimed. He squinted at Derek. “How old are you anyway?”

Derek glanced over, but didn’t say anything. Stiles mentally shrugged. He could look it up in his father’s police records later.

“I’m 16,” he offered instead. “My birthday isn’t super soon though. I love birthdays. I love birthday cake, you know? It’s like the only dessert in the world that is made just for you. Same with the Happy Birthday song. It gets sung to a lot of people and it’s still always just for them.”

It was quiet for a few moments. Then, Derek said, “I like lemon bars.”

“Oh, lemon bars are your favorite, huh, Sourwolf?” Stiles teased.

“Sour _wolf_?” Derek asked sharply.

Stiles shrugged, ignoring the tone. “You found me in the woods and now you’re leading me back to your house. I’m even wearing a red hoodie.”

Derek actually turned his whole head to look at Stiles.

“Dude, eyes on the road!”

“There’s no one there,” Derek said, even as he faced front once more.

“Yeah, well, you can’t tell for sure if you’re not looking.”

Derek smirked like he was laughing at a private joke, but didn’t respond. He took a turn onto a dirt road and Stiles blinked in surprise because apparently he’d been closer to the Hale place than he realized. He knew it was in the woods, of course, but it never would have occurred to him to go there for help. It definitely would have been quicker to go to the Hale house than to try to make it to town on foot.

Derek parked and swung open his door.

“You can come in if you want,” he said. Stiles startled and realized his hand had been hovering over the door handle.

Derek Hale was actually inviting him into his house. He couldn’t believe it. How was this his life?

Slowly, he got out of the car, taking his first look at the reconstructed house. He couldn’t see it very well in the dark, but he could tell it was massive. Bigger than the original? Why would Derek do that? Then again, Stiles wasn’t one to talk about coping mechanisms.

“Stiles,” Derek said.

The teen blinked and stumbled out of his own head. Derek was already at the top of the steps, looking back at him.

“Sorry,” Stiles yelped. He ran toward the steps, tripping a little, but righting himself before he actually fell.

The inside of the house was better lit and gorgeous. He looked at the open foyer, the slowly winding staircase, the beautifully stained wood. Stiles walked into the living room, so caught up in his exploration he was oblivious to the way Derek was watching him. Stiles couldn’t really say whether the living room was as amazing as the foyer because his attention was completely captured by one thing.

The massive bookcase that took up all of one wall.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. He remembered Derek and whirled to see if he'd somehow offended the man by tramping through his house like he was a welcome visitor instead of one brought there by circumstance. But Derek was just smirking at him again.

“You can look,” he said, gesturing to the bookshelf.

Stiles dashed over without a second thought. He was vaguely aware of Derek still talking to him, but he was too occupied with reading titles and brushing his fingers reverently against spines to pay much attention. He was hard-pressed not to grab a book and curl up in that comfy looking armchair and forget the world for awhile. Stiles perused the books, pulling out a few at random to take a look at the summaries. He’d pulled out a book about the indigenous people of that area of California and cracked it open when he sensed something next to him.

He looked up directly into Derek's beautiful eyes. ‘Wow,’ he thought, immediately distracted by trying to name all the colors he could find.

“Wow?” Derek asked.

Stiles frowned, confused. Until he realized he must have said that out loud.

“Wow, this book is so interesting,” he blurted.

Derek glanced down to where he was still in the first page.

“The first sentence really grabs you,” Stiles said, shutting the book as he spoke so Derek wouldn't read what was a pretty average first sentence.

“Hn,” Derek said, eyes scanning the title. Stiles tried to stifle the feeling that Derek would find it again later. He definitely wouldn't care that much.  
“You can borrow it,” he said.

Stiles blinked at him. “What? No, I couldn't do that. You're already helping me with my car. I can't steal your books too.”

“It's not stealing if I offer to let you borrow it,” Derek said. But he immediately turned and headed to the door.

Stiles scrambled to put the book back in hurry after him.

“Your house looks beautiful,” he offered when they were back in the car. “From what I saw.”

Derek nodded his acknowledgement. 

“It’s very big,” Stiles said. He let a questioning note slip into his voice, but Derek just shrugged.

“My house is average, I guess,” Stiles said. “Nothing special. But it’s also where I grew up. It’s home, you know?”

He thought about having to go back to his house that night and wondered if what he said was really true. Was it a home anymore? His mom was dead. No more baking cookies or folding laundry or making forts. His dad was hardly ever home, too busy with work. Scott never came over, always spending every moment with Allison. Stiles spent a lot of time in an empty house all by himself.

“I used to hate that we lived so far from town,” Derek suddenly said into the silence. “But now I like it. The quiet is nice.”

Stiles blinked and then burst into laughter. He calmed himself when he realized Derek was scowling.

“Sorry,” he said contritely, “I just pictured you as a lumberjack for a second. Which you’re totally not. Though, with that beard, you could seriously pull it off.”

His mind lurched into a fantasy of what beard burn would feel like on the insides of his thighs. He had to physically shake his head to bring himself out of it, because what the fuck brain. Stop with the graphic and completely impossible imagery. Stiles noticed Derek watching him out of the corner of his eye.

Forcing a wide smile, he said, “So how long do you think it will take to fix my car?”

“To fix what’s wrong with it right now? Not long,” Derek said. “To fix what’s wrong with it in general? I’d need a bit more time.”

“Yeah, I really can’t afford to fix _everything_ that’s wrong with it,” Stiles said. “Shit. Speaking of, how much will I owe you for this?” He was already mentally calculating how much time Derek had spent on this.

But Derek shook his head. “On the house.”

Stiles stared at him. “Look, I know what I just said, but…”

“I know what it’s like, Stiles,” Derek interrupted. “To want to hold on to the memories.” He paused, lips parting and pursing in turn for several moments. Finally, he said quietly, “This was Laura’s car.”

‘ _Fuck_ ,’ Stiles thought. He was not prepared for this. He was not prepared to deal with the physical sexiness of Derek Hale paired with the automatic protectiveness he felt whenever he saw genuine grief. He wasn’t ready.

“After she died, I used to put the back seats down in the Jeep and sleep there,” Stiles said.

‘ _What the fuck is wrong with you?_ ’ he screamed at himself. Who the fuck admitted something like that to a perfect stranger?

“I used to drive to her favorite spot in the woods,” Derek said.

Stiles still slept in the Jeep on particularly bad days. He wondered how often Derek visited Laura’s favorite spot.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. He appreciated it now that he knew Derek wasn’t doing it out of pity. Derek only nodded, but Stiles didn’t need him to say anything to know he got it.

They pulled up behind his Jeep and Stiles realized that Derek had brought a light with him even though he hadn’t seemed to need it before. Then again, it was later than it had been. Even especially good night vision had its limits.

As Derek got to work, Stiles looked around them. 

“Have you ever been really aware that the situation you’re in is a horror movie situation?” he asked, looking at the forest. He turned back to Derek, who was watching him now. “Like this is the part of the movie where the axe murderer or monster comes out of the woods to eat us.”

Derek smirked. “Don’t worry,” he said dryly, “I’d protect you.”

“Oh, yes, my savior, the Big Bad Wolf,” Stiles sighed, clasping his hands to his chest and making a pretty successful attempt at heart eyes.

“Are you still on that?” Derek asked, smirk gone. He returned to his work.

“If the poorly constructed fairy tale fits,” Stiles shrugged. Derek snorted. “I like the old fairy tales,” Stiles said.

“You mean the ones where everyone dies at the end?” Derek asked.

“Not _everyone_ dies,” Stiles said, “There’s, like, some maiming and mangling, but not everyone _dies_. I think that’s an important distinction.”

Derek didn’t say anything.

“Oh my god, how are you making silence sarcastic?” Stiles asked, appalled. The other man still didn’t say anything, but Stiles thought the silence was amused now.

He continued chattering about fairy tales, starting to pace, gestures getting more wild as he went on.

“...and the consent issues. Holy hell, the consent issues. In _Sleeping Beauty_ **alone**. I just…”

Stiles happened to glance over and see Derek leaning against the front of his Jeep, arms crossed, watching him. He stopped so suddenly he tripped a little.

“Oh my god, when did you finish?”

“About 10 minutes ago,” Derek shrugged.

Stiles gaped. “Why didn’t I hear you closing the hood?”

“You were deep into a rant about how unfair it was that the little mermaid got turned into foam just because the one she loved was a fickle asshat,” Derek said. Stiles caught the amusement even though it seemed like Derek was trying to hide it.

“Wow, I… can’t believe you actually listened to me,” Stiles said, stunned.

Derek’s lips twitched. “I’ve never heard such an in-depth analysis of Snow White.”

Stiles blushed and looked away. “Um. Thanks a lot,” he said, kicking at the ground. “I really appreciate your help.”

“You’re welcome,” Derek said gently. He gathered his tools. “I’ll wait in my car to make sure you can start okay,” he said. “Have a good night, Stiles.”

“Yeah, um, you too, Derek,” Stiles said. He forced himself to get in his car instead of standing there and watching while Derek walked away. Of course his car started perfectly. The clanking sound it usually made when he turned the key was nowhere to be found. Stiles wondered exactly how much work Derek had actually done because after spending time with the man, he was pretty sure Derek was exactly the type of person to throw in some extra work while Stiles was too distracted to protest. Maybe he should do something to thank the man. He knew Derek wouldn’t accept payment, would be insulted if Stiles offered money after his explanation of why it was on the house. But a small token of appreciation wouldn’t be amiss right?

Stiles waved a hand to let Derek know all was good. The Camaro’s headlights flickered in acknowledgement. 

Stiles put Roscoe in drive and went home.

It was late, but his dad wasn’t there when he got in.

‘Home sweet alone,’ he thought as he walked up the stairs to his room.

-

Derek knew by the time he got home, the rest of the Pack would be there. They would definitely ask whose scent was in the house, and he wondered what he would tell them. Well, obviously, he would tell the truth. That he’d been on his way back and seen Stiles stopped literally in the middle of the road. He didn’t have the right tools to help, so he’d brought Stiles with him when he came to get what he needed. They’d gone back to his car. Derek fixed it. Stiles went on his way. That was it.

Except…

That wasn’t really it.

That should have been all there was to it, but Derek was intrigued by Stiles. By his big honey eyes and full mouth and constantly moving limbs. By the way his mind moved almost too fast for his scent to catch up. He’d said his phone being dead was the reason he had still been there, stranded. But he hadn’t asked to use Derek’s phone to let someone know of his situation. It seemed like it hadn’t even occurred to him that someone might be wondering why he was still out so late at night.

And there was that moment, when he’d been talking about his house being a home, where he smelled sad and… lonely.

Derek knew what loneliness smelled like. He’d smelled it on everyone in his Pack before he bit them. But he wasn’t prepared to bite anyone else at the moment. He already had three relatively new Betas.

And with Stiles, there wasn’t… It wasn’t that Derek thought he wouldn’t make a good wolf. He would probably make an amazing wolf. But while Derek knew that objectively, there wasn’t any instinct to bite him. Not the way there had been with his other Betas.

And even if he’d felt the instinct to bite, he might have hesitated. The kid was ridiculous. Who ranted about old-time fairy tales for 45 minutes? And yet, he’d been so passionate, excited about every story and every point he’d made.

There was… there was just something about him. Something that had made Derek stand and watch Stiles even after he’d finished working on the Jeep. Something that made Derek want to watch him even more. He’d actually been disappointed when Stiles had noticed he was finished. 

Derek pulled up in the clearing in front of the house. As he’d predicted, the others were already there.

“Who was here?” Erica asked as soon as he walked in.

“The scent seems kind of familiar for some reason,” Isaac added quietly.

He was Derek’s youngest Beta, both in terms of actual age and when he’d received the bite. He was still getting comfortable with the rest of the Pack, and he was especially wary around Derek. The Alpha understood that, though, considering how he’d found Isaac in the first place.

“You probably recognize the scent from school,” Derek said. “Some kid broke down and I didn’t have the right tools to fix his Jeep so he we had to come back here.”

“Oh, Stiles,” Isaac said. “Yeah, that Jeep is so old, I’m kind of surprised his dad lets him drive it around.”

Derek shrugged. He knew Stiles got to keep the car because it was his mom’s. He just didn’t know whether Stiles would be comfortable with him sharing that. Not many people knew the Camaro had been Laura’s.

“This kid the only one that drives a Jeep?” Erica asked, surprised by Isaac’s quick recognition.

“The one who drives a Jeep most likely to break down,” Isaac said, “Like I said, it’s old.”

“Maybe you’ll get some good karma for helping a stranger in need,” Erica teased.

Derek rolled his eyes and walked over to stand next to Boyd at the stove. It was far more likely that any karma he generated would simply prevent something bad rather than grant something especially good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! All of your comments have been so lovely and Mondays suck and I haven't had the best time of it in the past couple days so to make myself feel better I'm giving you all another chapter today and I'll post bi-weekly. I hope you all like this chapter as much as you liked the first.

“Um… hello?” Stiles called looking around. He knew there had to be someone there because it was the middle of the day and the garage’s hours were posted on the door, but he couldn’t hear anything. “Derek?”

A blonde in coveralls popped up out of nowhere. “Lookin’ for the boss?” she asked.

Stiles could only stare at her for a moment. She was gorgeous. He could tell that her hair was curly even though it was pulled back in a loose bun. She was wiping her hands with a towel, but even Stiles could tell that the grease there wasn’t leaving without a good scrubbing. “I’m looking for Derek Hale,” Stiles replied shyly.

“Yeah, the boss,” the woman said. She looked him up and down, eyes lingering on the container in his hands and his face in particular. “He’s in the office,” she said, coming closer, “But I can get him for you. For the right price.”

Stiles instinctively wanted to take a step back in the face of her predatory smirk. He resisted the urge and responded, “I guess that would depend on what you consider the right price.”

He knew immediately that he’d intrigued her. He really wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. And then Derek was there. Stiles had to blink a few times. Was he just seriously unaware or were they really appearing out of thin air?

“Stop scaring the customers, Erica,” Derek said.

“Aw, but he’s so cute,” Erica cooed. “I’m sure he’d be fun to play with.” 

She leered at him and Stiles didn’t know whether to be disturbed or amused. He didn’t think he’d ever been leered at before. Or at least not so blatantly. 

“Erica,” Derek said sternly. She shrugged at him unapologetically and stepped away. Though, she didn’t go very far and was clearly still paying attention to them.

Derek shifted his attention from her to Stiles. Once he was pinned by those piercing eyes, Stiles realized how stupid this was. He’d showed up at the man’s job. Unannounced. You only did that type of shit with friends. Really good friends. And even then a heads up via text was preferred. He was flooded with embarrassment and shame. What the hell was wrong with him? Derek would probably think he was some kind of crazed stalker. Or a desperately lonely loser with no friends. One of those was incredibly close to the truth and he’d never stalked anyone in his life. 

“Hi, Stiles,” Derek said. He kept his tone as even and friendly as he could, even though he wasn’t very good at that, because he could sense just how much the boy was beginning to freak out.

The greeting startled him enough that he responded automatically. “Hey, dude.”

He tried not to glare at the term, knowing it would only make Stiles panic even more. After a moment of silence, Derek prompted, “You just dropping by?”

“Oh,” Stiles blinked, “No. I mean, yes. I mean, I came by to… You… I wanted…” He stopped and took a deep breath, apparently trying to steel himself so he could speak coherently. “You really helped me out the other day. And I wanted to say thank you. I know I already did, but I could have been stranded on that road for hours. So I wanted to do something nice for you like you did for me. Here.” 

He held out the container and Derek stepped forward to take it. Since the teen hadn’t explained what was in it, Derek cracked it open. The scent hit him immediately, and his eyes widened. 

“Lemon bars,” he stated. His voice was flat because of his shock.

“Um, yeah,” Stiles said shyly, rocking back and forth on his heels, “You said they were your favorite, so I just whipped up a batch.”

He was unaware of Erica’s incredulous look. He just whipped up a batch? Of Derek’s absolute favorite dessert that he was super critical about? She knew the story. She and the others had definitely wanted to know what was up with the new scent in the house, especially since Isaac said it was familiar. Derek had explained he’d found a teen stranded on the road and helped him with his car, but he’d never even hinted that they’d had a real conversation, especially not one in depth enough to lead to Stiles knowing Derek’s favorite dessert.

“Thank you. This is really nice,” Derek said, unaware of how surprised and confused he sounded. 

Stiles was confused about why Derek would be confused that someone was being nice to him, until he remembered that even he had been scared and wary of the man when they first met. He felt guilty about it now. Derek might be a bit gruff and a little rough around the edges, but he had been kind to Stiles when he didn’t need to be. 

“I hope you like them,” Stiles said. He thought he might have been a little too earnest when Derek pinned him with a searching gaze. 

“I’m sure they’re delicious,” the man replied. 

They stayed like that for a moment, just staring into each other’s eyes. Erica looked between them, because what the heck was happening right now. Eventually, Stiles glanced at her, probably sensing her gaze, and came back to himself. 

“I better get going,” he said sheepishly, “I need to get back before lunch ends. Thanks again.” He turned and darted off. 

Derek knew Erica was staring at him, but he ignored her in favor of opening the container wide enough to grab one of the delicious smelling lemon bars. He took a bite.

“Fuck.” The expletive was a punched out groan. How the hell had the kid done this? The crust was buttery and flaky, not too thick. The zesty tang of the lemon mixed perfectly with the sweetness of the powdered sugar. Derek knew he was damn critical of any version of his favorite dessert, but he really did have to give Stiles credit. It tasted delicious.

Erica was next to him suddenly, reaching into the container. He turned so his front was away from her and snarled over his shoulder. “ _Mine_.”

She didn’t look the least bit impressed. “At least let me take a bite of the one you’ve already started to eat. I want to know what made you make that sex moan.”

Derek pursed his lips, trying not to respond to the (pretty accurate) description of his reaction. “Fine. A small bite,” he said, turning back to her. 

Erica nodded and then snapped her teeth around a significant portion of the lemon bar in his hand. Derek snarled at her. Erica would have smirked at him, but the flavors hit her and she tilted her head back with a gasped whimper. She chewed slowly, savoring the taste. “Fuck,” she said, echoing her Alpha. “Derek, I don’t care what you have to do, you better make sure that kid keeps coming around if you get the chance. And ask him to make brownies next time.”

Considering the charged looks between the two, she probably shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was when he looked back at where Stiles had disappeared and said, “Okay.”

-

“So, dude, what were you calling me for last night?” Scott asked.

Stiles stared at him. He’d been waiting for the question, but had given up hope it would actually be asked what with Scott’s rambling on and on about Allison. Scott hadn’t even questioned his absence at lunch. He had no idea what had pulled his friend out of his Allison-bubble, but he would take advantage of it while he could.

“Oh, my Jeep broke down on a back road,” Stiles said, “I was calling you for help.”

Scott turned to him with wide eyes. “Shit, dude, I’m sorry. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Stiles appreciated the concern, even if it was a little late. “I’m fine. Derek Hale, of all people, helped me out.”

“Derek Hale?” Scott squeaked, with wide eyes. “The dude that killed the owner of Mo’s so he could have it all to himself?”

Stiles sighed. “Derek didn’t kill anyone. He’s actually a pretty nice dude.”

“Yeah, maybe until he murders you!” Scott exclaimed.

“He’s not going to murder me, Scott,” Stiles rolled his eyes. “He had the chance last night when we were all alone on a back road with the woods right there.”

“Why didn’t you call someone?” Scott asked.

Stiles looked at him incredulously. “I called _you_ , remember? You didn’t pick up. And then my phone died so I couldn’t call anyone else. And then Derek showed up and saw I was broken down in the middle of the road and helped me out.”

Scott felt so guilty. Because he hadn’t answered his phone, Stiles had been alone with a murderer. 

“Dude, I’m so, so sorry. Like, I’m really sorry,” Scott said.

Stiles had been irritated because Scott’s reaction had reminded him he could have been in danger. But he could hardly stay mad in the face of Scott’s sorrowful puppy eyes.

“It’s fine, man. No harm, no foul,” Stiles grinned.

“So is your Jeep okay?” Scott asked, still a bit worried.

“I can drive it,” Stiles shrugged, “But it still needs a lot of repairs.”

“I can drive you!” Scott offered eagerly. “Whenever I get to use my mom’s car, I can drive you too.”

“Seriously, dude? That’d be awesome. Thanks,” Stiles said. Scott beamed happily.

Privately, Stiles was mostly excited because this was some one-on-one time he could spend with Scott that wouldn’t be interrupted by Allison and company. He missed spending time with Scott, just the two of them.

“Okay, I get the car tomorrow. I can pick you up for school and then after we can go to your place and hang out?” Scott asked. 

“Sounds awesome,” Stiles enthused. “Any chance to beat your ass at video games.”

-

Derek had said he would try to make sure Stiles kept coming around if he could, but he hadn’t expected that he would actually have the chance. Or at least, not so soon. But here he was, staring at Stiles studying two tomatoes like his life depended on picking the right one.

“Stiles,” Derek called before he could think better of it.

The teen looked up. His eyes caught on Derek and widened. His scent flooded with surprise, arousal, and confusion.

“Derek,” he said, “You’re in the grocery store.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, and Stiles immediately blushed as he realized he’d stated the obvious.

“Even big bad wolves have to eat,” Derek said, trying to put Stiles at ease.

Stiles blinked, then, as he caught the joke, he grinned. “Yeah, but one would assume a wolf would be on the hunt for little pigs or pretty girls in red hoods.”

“Does a pretty boy work too?” Derek asked, eyeing Stiles’ hoodie. He realized what he’d said and the implication when Stiles’ heart started to race. Shit, that could be construed as flirtatious and he definitely wasn’t trying to flirt with Stiles at all. He glanced into Stiles’ cart for a topic change.

“Lots of vegetables there,” he commented inanely.

“Oh,” Stiles said, as if surprised by the contents of his own cart. “Yeah, my dad has to eat healthy foods so he can’t have…”

He glanced at Derek’s cart and stopped mid-sentence.

“Any of what you have, jeeze. How do you have so many muscles if that’s what you eat on a regular basis?”

‘Werewolf metabolism,’ Derek thought.

“I workout a lot,” he shrugged.

“I can tell,” Stiles said, eyes lingering on Derek’s biceps. “But still…”

“I don’t have much cooking practice,” Derek said, “And I would rather not accidentally set my house on fire.”

Stiles’ eyes widened in surprise before his mouth twisted into a cynical smirk. Derek noted his appreciation of gallows humor.

“Let me make you a proper dinner,” Stiles said, “I’m a pretty decent cook and from what I see, you could use a home-cooked meal.”

Derek stared at him. “You want to make me dinner?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles shrugged.

“You know you don’t owe me anything, right?” Derek asked, frowning, “You didn’t even owe me those lemon bars. They were delicious and I appreciated the gesture,” he hurriedly assured when he saw Stiles’ face start to fall. “But I’m not waiting for you to give me any type of payment. On the house means on the house, not pay me back in food.”

Stiles laughed. “I’m not offering because I think I owe you something. And I need to get that lemon bar container back anyway. I can just whip up something while I’m there."

“You want to go to my house and make me dinner,” Derek said blankly.

“Um, sure, why not?” Stiles shrugged knowing damn well that the answer to why not was Derek not wanting to have anything to do with a clingy spaz of a kid. 

“Because I could murder you and bury your body in the woods,” Derek replied. The moment the words were out he wondered why he always did this to himself.

To his surprise, Stiles chuckled. “You already had the chance to do that, remember? Dark night, all alone on a back road ringing any bells?”

“I could just be luring you into a false sense of security,” Derek said.

Seriously? What the hell was wrong with him?

This time Stiles laughed. “Wow, you really know how to make friends, don’t you.”

Derek scoffed. “Yeah, apparently.”

Stiles stepped forward. “Look, if it makes you feel better, we can do dinner at my house instead. I’ll have home field advantage and there’s no woods to bury my body in. Plus, if you kill me, my dad will have plenty of evidence to work with.”

“Your dad?” Derek asked frowning.

“Yeah, he’s the sheriff,” Stiles said. “Where do you think my nickname came from?”

Derek sighed. “Stilinski,” he muttered, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Got it in one,” Stiles said. “So, um, do you want to come over? I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You don’t need to make jokes about killing me to get me to leave you alone. Just tell me.”

Derek looked at Stiles. The boy was curling in on himself, shoulders hunched. The bright smile that had been on his face just a moment ago nowhere to be found. The Alpha could scent embarrassment and anxiousness. And loneliness. 

He reached out and tilted the boy’s face upwards so their eyes would meet.

“I would love to have dinner at your house, Stiles,” Derek said.

“Really?” he asked starting to smile slowly.

“Yes, really,” Derek smirked.

“Okay, well, um…” He trailed off, seeming a bit flustered. Derek realized how close he was standing and stepped back. He assured himself that he was imagining the disappointment on Stiles’ face and that even if he wasn’t, it didn’t matter because Stiles was way too young.

“So, um, I could text you my address or you could follow me or…?” Stiles said.

Derek glanced down at all the frozen food in his cart. “I should probably get these in my freezer. How about you text me, and I’ll meet you there in an hour or so,” he said.

“Yeah, that totally works,” Stiles said. He pulled out his phone and seemed to hesitate for a moment before offering it to Derek.

Derek put in his number and handed the phone back. Their fingers brushed and there was a pause. Stiles’ cheeks turned pink again and Derek tried to ignore both the attractive blush and the way his fingers tingled.

“I’ll, um, I’ll text you my address,” Stiles said. He turned his cart around and headed directly for the registers, abandoning the tomatoes he’d been studying so intently.

Derek listened to Stiles’ heartbeat, waiting until he was out of the store before heading to the register himself. Best way to avoid awkwardly running into each other again. Should he have offered to help Stiles carry his groceries to the car? No, that would have been weird. It wasn’t like Stiles was some feeble old lady. He didn’t need help carrying his groceries to the car. But wouldn’t it have been nice? Stiles was making Derek dinner after all.

Derek paid his cashier and sternly told himself to stop overthinking. Stiles had offered to make him a meal. He knew the boy had been telling the truth when he said he hadn’t made the offer as some kind of repayment for Derek fixing his car. This was nothing more than Stiles taking pity on him. And maybe looking for anyone he could find to assuage the loneliness Derek could smell underlying his scent.

And that was the only reason Derek was going. To stop Stiles from feeling so lonely.

He drove home, trying to keep from questioning himself. That would be overthinking and if he got in the wrong mood, he might end up being too gruff with Stiles, which would make the teen sad.

After putting his groceries in the freezer, he walked right back to his car. No point in changing his clothes. Stiles had already seen what he was wearing and this wasn’t a date anyway. 

His phone buzzed as he got into the driver’s seat. Once, twice. He checked it to see an address and a second message that said, _This is Stiles btw_.

Derek smiled and immediately suppressed it. That wasn’t cute. It only made sense to say who you were if it was likely you were an unfamiliar number. Luckily, he knew that part of town so it wouldn’t be too difficult to find Stiles’ place. His house. Where he lived with his father. The Sheriff.

What was he _doing_?

Nothing. He wasn’t doing anything besides taking an acquaintance (Friend? Acquaintance.) up on his nice offer for a home cooked meal. Nothing sordid.

Pulling into the driveway, he got out and walked to the front door. He rang the bell and it was only a moment before he heard Stiles call out, “It’s open!”

Sure enough, when he turned the knob, the front door was unlocked. Derek was momentarily stunned by how unsafe it was.

He walked into the kitchen. Stiles turned away from the stove to beam at him.

“Hey,” he said brightly, “I already started… What’s wrong?”

Derek knew he was scowling fiercely, but he couldn’t make himself stop. Stiles’ smile faded completely, leaving only concern.

“You shouldn’t leave your door open like that,” Derek said.

“Oh, that,” Stiles laughed. “No one is going to rob the Sheriff’s house. And anyway, I knew the Big Bad Wolf would be here to protect me."

“Stiles,” Derek said sternly, “Always lock your front door. Even if you know I’m on my way here.”

Stiles stared at him with wide eyes.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Do you understand me?”

Stiles looked away, turning his head to the side as he replied, “Yes, Derek.”

The motion bared his neck and Derek was so focused on battling the rush of heat he felt at the unintentional submission that he missed the signs of Stiles’ arousal.

Forcing himself to calm down, Derek took Stiles in. He was also in the same clothes he’d been wearing in the store. But…

Derek scented soap. He’d taken a shower, but put on the same clothes again? Derek realized Stiles was staring at him with a small, perplexed crease between his brows.

It occurred to him that he’d walked into Stiles’ house, given an order (one that implied there might be a next time he visited), and then fallen completely silent.

“Thank you for inviting me over,” Derek said in what he hoped would be perceived as a polite tone.

“Oh,” Stiles startled, “You’re welcome.” He turned back to the stove. “I thought I’d start you off with something simple, but good. Wouldn’t want to overwhelm your tastebuds.”

“I don’t only eat frozen foods, Stiles,” Derek said.

“Too much takeout is bad for you too,” Stiles said, throwing a smirk over his shoulder.

“I don’t only eat frozen foods and takeout,” Derek said, “Boyd cooks sometimes. So does Isaac.”

He obviously thought he didn’t have to explain who those people were. And he didn’t. Stiles knew Isaac from school, but more than that, Derek had a reputation, and that reputation extended to the people that spent a lot of time around him. More often than not, those people had reputations of their own that were only compounded by their friendship with Derek. Stiles knew who Vernon Boyd and Isaac Lahey were. He’d also recognized Erica as Erica Reyes once he’d calmed down enough to stop freaking out about actually going to Derek’s workplace to give him his favorite dessert.

“What does Boyd like to cook?” Stiles asked.

Derek considered that. “Meat, I guess. He makes us stuff like burgers and ribs and steaks.” He wondered if Boyd had always cooked like that or whether it was something that had changed when he became a wolf.

Stiles laughed. “Why do I get the feeling that you like your steak still mooing?”

Derek smirked. “Steak isn’t actually my favorite food, you know.”

“Oh? What is your favorite food?” Stiles asked.

Now Derek hesitated. He hadn’t wanted to seem stereotypical, but his actual favorite food was a bit ridiculous.

“Well, now you have to tell me,” Stiles said. Derek looked up to find Stiles staring at him with pure curiosity. He already knew Stiles wouldn’t leave it alone until he found out.

“Blueberry muffins,” he sighed.

Stiles’ eyebrows flew up. “Your favorite dessert is lemon bars, but your favorite food is blueberry muffins. You are a study in contradictions Derek Hale.”

Derek shrugged and looked away trying to suppress a smile.

“Though, I guess, that means you have a sweet tooth?” Stiles queried.

Derek shrugged again. He _did_ , but he tried to control it as much as possible which meant a minimum of sweets.

“That definitely means yes,” Stiles said, smiling. “Now I know if I want something all I have to do is bribe you with dessert. Good thing I already know you like my lemon bars.”

Derek was simultaneously exasperated and amused. Stiles was such an adorable little brat.

“And what’s your favorite dessert? And your favorite food for that matter?” he asked.

“Oh, trying to figure out what you can bribe me with?” Stiles asked cheekily.

Derek barely caught himself before he said, ‘Good boys get treats.’ Because that was completely inappropriate and had nothing to do with the current conversation.

“I’m just wondering,” Derek said, knowing Stiles had already decided his motivations and would take that response with a grain of salt.

Sure enough, Stiles smirked, but replied, “My favorite food is curly fries. And I’m a sucker for some peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.”

Derek chuckled. “I’m guessing you’re a fan of Reese’s?”

“You mean manna from heaven in an orange package? Yeah, I’m a fan,” Stiles said.

“Got it,” Derek nodded, “Bribe material is peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, but Reese’s are a convenient shortcut.”

“Gosh darn it,” Stiles snapped his fingers, “Guess I gave myself away. Now I get Reese’s if you want me to do something. I’m so dumb.”

“Well, I’m not going to argue with you about that,” Derek smirked.

“Hey!” Stiles exclaimed. “You better watch it if you don’t want me to poison your food.”

“I’ve spent the last few years building up an immunity to iocane powder,” Derek replied.

Stiles whirled around with a gleeful expression. “Oh my god, _please_ marry me,” he blurted.

Derek grinned. “As you wish.”

He froze in place when Stiles’ heart literally stopped beating. Stiles shook his head and the dazed expression left his face as he turned back to the stove. His heartbeat began pounding in Derek’s ears again, way more accelerated than it had been before. 

“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered quietly enough that Derek wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to hear. He spoke more loudly a moment later when he said, “I seriously love that movie. And dinner is about ready, if you want to sit at the table.”

Derek moved to the table, cursing himself as he did. He was _flirting_. He needed to stop. Because Stiles was too young for him to flirt with.

Stiles set his plate down in front of him and a cloud of fragrant steam wafted toward his nose. Stiles’ version of simple, but good, was spaghetti and meat sauce. And it looked as amazing as it smelled.

He took a bite and was hard pressed not to moan. It tasted as incredible as it looked and smelled. 

“This is really good,” Derek said, barely managing to get the words out in between swallowing and taking another bite.

“Thanks,” Stiles said, looking pleased. 

“Ground turkey?” Derek asked.

“You can tell?” Stiles questioned disappointedly. “I try to make it so my dad can’t tell it’s not ground beef. He gets stubborn about it.”

“I have sensitive taste buds,” Derek said, “I doubt your dad would be able to tell.”

Stiles snorted. “Oh, well, I’m so thankful my humble meal doesn’t offend your sophisticated palate.”

“My sophisticated palate is thankful too,” Derek said seriously, relishing in Stiles’ responding grin.

They spent a few quiet moments eating.

“Where did you learn to cook?” Derek asked.

Stiles’ mouth twisted and Derek knew he’d stumbled on something to do with Stiles’ mother.

“My mom was the type that believed in home cooked meals and sitting down to dinner,” Stiles said. “She loved cooking. And she didn’t mind me helping her even though I tended to mess up the ratios or make up my own recipes on the spot. When she died, my dad mostly ordered food. And it… It wasn’t the same. So I started trying to make some of the stuff she did. And eventually, I started finding recipes I wanted to try, and it kind of just went from there.”

Stiles had been excited at first to try cooking like his mom had. He’d hoped it could be something he and his dad did together, to preserve her memory. But it was too painful for his father to dance around the kitchen when he couldn’t pull his wife into his arms. It hurt him to do the things she did without her. So Stiles had stopped trying to include him. He didn’t say anything about the way their family dinners became almost nonexistent. More often than not Stiles ate by himself, the only one to enjoy the result of a new recipe or combination of seasonings.

“What was her favorite meal to make?” Derek asked.

“What?” Stiles responded blankly, startled out of his melancholic thoughts.

“What was your mom’s favorite thing to make?” Derek repeated gently.

Stiles laughed and the scent of sadness and grief dissipated.

“Randomly enough, nachos,” he said with a grin.

Derek huffed a laugh. “Nachos?”

“I know, right?” Stiles chuckled, “But she said it was something easy to make that could be tailored to any mood. She even made sweet nachos once.”

“That sounds like something that would only be good in theory,” Derek said. He would hardly even go that far, but he didn’t want to outright insult Stiles’ mom’s love for nachos and her apparently rampant imagination.

“No, it was really delicious,” Stiles said enthusiastically, “She used graham crackers and drizzled chocolate sauce and caramel sauce and sprinkled shredded coconut on top. Marshmallow fluff and whipped cream were the dips.” He paused. “I haven’t eaten it again since she made it that one time. Maybe I should make it one of these days.”

Derek smiled slightly, glad he’d been able to bring back a happy memory.

“Speaking of desserts,” he said, “Erica tasted one of your lemon bars…”

He was cut off by Stiles’ laughter. “Sorry, just, you’re literally scowling. I get the impression Erica _stole_ one of the lemon bars and you’re bitter about it.”

“You made them for _me_. They were _mine_ ,” Derek said petulantly. Stiles pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle more chuckles. Derek realized he sounded like a little kid forced to share his favorite snack, which… was entirely inaccurate. Moving on.

“Anyway, she put in a request for brownies,” he finished.

Stiles’ surprise was apparent in his expression and in his scent.

“Oh, she… Wow. Okay.” He paused, seeming to struggle a bit to take that in. “I mean… I have all the ingredients. So. We could make them now. If you want.”

“Oh,” Derek said, surprised himself. “Yeah, sure. If you don’t mind.”

“Nah, I don’t mind,” Stiles said, grinning, “I get the feeling Erica is the instant gratification type. She’ll probably smell me on you and demand to know where her brownies are.”

Derek froze for a moment because _what?_ Then he realized Stiles was only joking and laughed it off.

“You have her pegged,” Derek said.

Something flickered in Stiles’ eyes for a moment. He stood with a smile and grabbed their plates. “Come on, you can help. I might even let you stir.”

“Wow, I feel so honored that you would trust me like that,” Derek drawled. “I’d better be careful. With great power, comes great responsibility.”

“Oh my god, why are you perfect?” Stiles demanded to know as he set their plates in the sink. “Who created you out of marble and snark?”

Derek couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. He often overheard descriptions of himself, but that was one of the best by far. Or maybe he was just more inclined toward the person doing the describing than he’d ever been before.

“Okay, watch carefully, because I’m about to show you how to make the most delicious brownies ever,” Stiles said.

Derek really did intend to pay attention. But he got lulled into a relaxed, content haze by the rumble of Stiles’ voice and the competent motions of his hands. The rich aroma of chocolate and Stiles’ thick honey scent mixed to create an intoxicating perfume. Derek was full and warm, surrounded by good smells and the sound of Stiles’ voice.

“... the kind of consistency you want,” Stiles said, lifting the whisk so the batter could drip back into the bowl. He let a finger catch some drips and brought his hand to his mouth for a taste.

“Mmm, this might be the best batch I’ve ever made,” Stiles said with a bright smile.

Derek leaned forward to press their lips together and lick the taste of chocolate from Stiles’ mouth.

And abruptly jerked back as if he’d been burned.

He’d relaxed too much. He’d let his guard down. He shouldn’t need to try so hard to keep his guard _up_. What was _wrong_ with him?

He stood from the stool he’d been sitting on, nearly toppling it. “I have to go.”

“Wait, what?” Stiles asked, caught completely off guard. But Derek had already turned toward the front door. “Wait, what’s wrong? What did I do?”

He regretted the words the moment they slipped out, but it did make Derek turn to face him. Derek’s expression was soft.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “It’s not your fault. I just… I have to go.”

Stiles stared. Derek was just trying to make him feel better. Whatever had just happened, it was his fault. He already knew he would never get the chance to spend time with Derek Hale again.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Let me just get some saran wrap and you can take the batter home. Refrigerate it until you’re ready to bake.”

Derek could tell that Stiles was hurt and upset, that he didn’t really believe he wasn’t at fault for Derek leaving. But he couldn’t stay and comfort Stiles. He wasn’t sure it wouldn’t lead to something else. And he did not need to be caught in a compromising position with the Sheriff’s son in the Sheriff’s house.

Stiles handed him the bowl of brownie batter with saran wrap covering it. “Here. I hope Erica likes them.”

“Thanks,” Derek said, hurriedly. He needed to get away before Stiles’ beautiful scent was any more clouded with sadness, and he couldn’t make himself leave. “Dinner was delicious. See you around.”

He turned and hurried out the door, barely managing to snatch his jacket off the coat stand before he left.

Stiles watched the door close behind him. He barely managed to find a wall to lean against before he slid down to the floor.

What had he done wrong?

Everything had been fine. They talked and laughed and ate. Derek even agreed to stay longer. They started baking. He made a comment about the consistency of the batter. Derek leaned closer to look and jumped back like a snake had bitten him and practically ran out of the house.

Stiles replayed it again and again, but he couldn’t pinpoint where he’d made the mistake. But clearly he’d done something wrong because one moment Derek was fine and the next he was freaking out.

Now, he’d lost a new potential friend. Or maybe he was being too optimistic. There was no guarantee that Derek had ever wanted to be friends with him in the first place. Unlike Stiles, he already had other friends that he hung out with on a regular basis. Friends that also cooked good food for him. Derek didn’t need Stiles. He’d probably only said yes to dinner because he could tell how lonely and pathetic Stiles was and that lowkey Good Samaritan streak he had wouldn’t leave him alone until he tried to help.

Stiles didn’t want anyone to be his friend out of pity or because they thought he was a charity case. He hadn’t thought Derek was that kind of person, but something had made him dash out of there like the hounds of hell were after him and if he was so eager to leave, why had he been willing to come in the first place?

Stiles forced himself to stand. He had to clean everything up before his dad came home and asked who he’d had over. He didn’t know how his father would react to him spending time with Derek Hale, but he would rather not find out until it was absolutely necessary. Though, that probably wouldn’t be a concern anymore.

As he washed up, Stiles thought again, some more, repeatedly about the whole night. He couldn’t believe he’d been imagining the warmth Derek had displayed earlier that night. He’d been so concerned about Stiles leaving the door unlocked. He’d ordered Stiles to never do it again. And god, the sexy way he’d said, “Do you understand me?" just laying down the law and expecting Stiles to obey.

Stiles shivered at the memory of Derek’s eyes staring sternly at him, his commanding tone. He’d do anything if Derek spoke to him in that tone of voice. He’d just drop to his knees and open his mouth wide for whatever Derek wanted to put in it if…

Oh.

Maybe that’s why Derek left? Because he could tell Stiles was attracted to him?

But Stiles hadn’t even been trying to flirt with him or anything like that when he up and ran away.

Stiles sighed. Whatever the problem was, he would never be able to figure it out. He would just have to resign himself to the fact that he’d somehow made Derek Hale hate him.  
He glanced around the clean kitchen and listened to the silence echo throughout the house.

‘ _Home sweet alone_ ,’ he thought.

-

Scott pulled Allison just a bit closer, perfectly content. They were at Jackson’s house, lounging in his entertainment room. Jackson’s attention was split between his phone and the sitcom they were watching. Lydia was completely focused on the book in her hands. Allison was curled up in his arms, occasionally glancing up at him with a sugar sweet smile. Scott had no idea what he’d done to deserve such a perfect angel falling into his life.

“Oh, hey,” she said quietly, “Did you figure out why Stiles was calling you?”

Not quietly enough, apparently, because Jackson immediately scoffed, “Because he’s a codependent tagalong who can’t stand to be parted from his bestest friend?” He said the last words in a tone whiny and snotty enough for a dozen tweens.

Scott ignored the comment. It was the easiest way to deal with Jackson without starting a fight he wouldn’t be able to finish. “His car broke down. He was calling for help.”

Allison sat up a little, seemingly prepared to ask him more questions, but she was interrupted by Jackson’s snort. “And what would you have done with that piece-of-shit Jeep?”

“Shut up about his Jeep,” Scott snapped, unable to help himself. “It was his mom’s.”

“Oh, well, if it was his _mommy’s_ ,” Jackson sneered.

“Jackson,” Lydia said, without looking up from her book.

Jackson glanced at his girlfriend, and subsided with an unhappy expression on his face.

“Was he okay?” Allison asked.

“Yeah, he was fine. He said Derek Hale stopped to help him out.”

Lydia looked up.

“I would’ve picked up if I’d known he’d have to be alone with that psycho,” Scott continued, shaking his head. “Oh, by the way, I have to pick Stiles up for school tomorrow, too. Derek got his Jeep running, but it still needs repairs so I offered to drive him sometimes. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Allison smiled. “I’d love to get to know Stiles better. But what’s this about a psycho helping him?”

“Derek Hale is a mechanic in town. He used to live here with his family, but their house burned down and almost everyone got killed in the fire. He and his sister survived and went to New York, but he came back, like, a year ago all by himself. Any time someone asked, he’d just say Laura was dead. Then the owner of Mo’s, the mechanic, was like murdered and Derek bought the shop and started hiring sketchy people to work there. He’s crazy,” Scott explained.

“And Stiles was alone with him?” Allison asked, concerned.

“Yeah, right,” Jackson cut in. “It was probably some bullshit story to guilt trip you for not picking up your phone. You really think Derek Hale would give Stiles the time of day if he wasn’t trying to murder him? No way. Stiles just wanted you to think he was in trouble so you’d feel guilty.”

Scott tried to process that, and shook his head. He didn’t think Stiles would do that, but he didn’t want to argue with Jackson. Things had been so peaceful for a few moments. “It doesn’t matter if he was in danger from Derek Hale or not, he did break down and he did need help. I should have answered.”

“It was just a mistake, Scott,” Allison said gently. “I’m sure if you apologize, he’ll tell you it’s alright.”

Scott smiled down at her. “I did apologize, and he did forgive me.”

“There, see. Now you can relax and get the whole situation out of your head,” Allison said.

But Scott didn’t relax. He hated to think it, but could Stiles have been lying to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments and kudos are life. - xoxo, inhystereks


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello?” Scott asked breathlessly. Stiles hoped the reason for that wasn’t what he thought it was.
> 
> “Dude, where are you? I thought you were giving me a ride home?”
> 
> “Oh, shit, I forgot.”
> 
> Stiles closed his eyes. “Scott.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys. I think I made a bit of a whoopsie? Scott really isn't that big a part of this fic. Like from this point on, he's only mentioned casually, except for the last chapter. So if you're hoping for fireworks between him and Stiles, that doesn't really happen in a huge way. But you'll have to read on to find out exactly what I mean.
> 
> Also, someone mentioned wondering how Derek met the Betas. My headcanon for that is that Erica had a seizure in front of him and he offered the bite. Boyd got accused of stealing money from the ice rink and fired, and he went to Derek and asked for a job, which eventually led to him getting the bite too. And then Derek found Isaac like he did in canon.
> 
> Now, on with the story!

‘ _Where are you?_ ’ Stiles texted Scott a few days later.

After a few minutes with no response, he texted again.

‘ _Dude, did you already leave?_ ’ 

No answer.

Finally, he called Scott. Hopefully, the other teen had learned his lesson from last time and actually picked up.

“Hello?” Scott asked breathlessly. Stiles hoped the reason for that wasn’t what he thought it was.

“Dude, where are you? I thought you were giving me a ride home?”

“Oh, shit, I forgot.”

Stiles closed his eyes. “Scott.”

“Allison said her parents would be out for a few hours, so I drove to her house,” Scott said hurriedly. “But I can come back and pick you up!”

Stiles rolled his eyes. He already knew what was coming. “And are you going to come back and pick me up right now?”

Scott paused. “Could you maybe wait an hour or two?” he asked tentatively.

“I’ll just walk,” Stiles said, “Bye.”

He hung up. He might have felt better if Scott had tried to call him back.

-

Erica drove down a side street on her way to the garage, cursing the rain. It hadn’t been that bad a little while earlier when she agreed to drop off some order forms for Derek. He’d been distracted ever since Tuesday night. She’d caught the scent of Stiles on his jacket and there had been a plate of brownies on the counter when she’d gotten home that night. It didn’t seem like Stiles had dropped them off, so Derek must have gotten them from him some other way. But how? And why had getting brownies turned him into a zombie with how distracted he was?

She glanced out of the driver’s side window and braked with a loud screech when she saw a familiar figure in a red hoodie. The figure turned at the sound and it was Stiles. Erica wound down her window.

“Get in here!” she called.

Stiles hesitated. She stared at him in disbelief. It was really starting to come down and he was clearly walking home.

“Get in the car, Stiles!” she shouted.

Finally, Stiles hurried over. He dashed around the car and hopped in the passenger seat just as there was a crash of thunder and the rain officially became a downpour.

Erica looked at him as his rain-tinged scent permeated her car. 

“Did your Jeep break down again?” she asked, turning the heat on. She hadn’t seen it, but that might have meant he’d had to walk really far.

“No, I was supposed to get a ride from a friend, but he forgot and he couldn’t come back to get me,” Stiles said.

Well, the second part of that was a lie, so Erica thought it was more likely this ‘friend’ didn’t want to go back and pick him up. Stiles seemed kind of bothered, but also kind of like he’d mostly expected it so she wasn’t sure what that said about his relationship with whoever this was.

“If you want a ride home, I don’t mind. I’m on my way to the garage to drop something off for Derek, but I can take you to your place after, if you don’t mind the stop,” Erica smirked. She had the feeling Stiles would very much like to see Derek. And she had no doubt at least part of the reason Derek was in such a fog was because he was constantly thinking about Stiles.

Stiles looked out his window, tracing raindrops with his eyes. “I don’t mind going to the garage, but Derek might not want me there.”

Erica laughed. “Oh, trust me. He’ll be very happy to see you.”

“I don’t think so, Erica,” Stiles shook his head, “I made him upset.”

“What? When?” Erica asked, even though she already knew. Obviously, whatever had happened on Tuesday had been more serious than she’d thought.

Stiles shrugged. If Derek hadn’t told her about dinner at his place, he probably didn’t want her to know. Stiles wasn’t going to make the man more upset by going around telling people things he didn’t want them to know. Derek clearly regretted coming over and probably never wanted to deal with Stiles again, even by proxy. Erica seemed like the type to tease, and Stiles didn’t want Derek to blame him if she kept bringing up their disastrous dinner.

Erica watched him, but she could tell from his expression that shrug was all she was going to get. Which clearly wouldn’t do. She could tell Stiles and Derek had a crush on each other. Whatever misunderstanding that had happened needed to be resolved so they could get on with the awkward flirting. She needed her dose of amusement and second-hand embarrassment, damn it.

“Your friend had to rush home to let the dog out or something?” Erica asked, changing the subject.

Stiles snorted. “No. His girlfriend told him her parents would be out for a few hours after school.”

“Ah,” Erica sighed, “How predictable of a teenage boy to drop everything for a chance at some ass.”

Stiles tilted his head and gave her a curious look.

“Yes, I said ass to include teenage boys that want a girl’s ass or a boy’s ass or both,” she smirked.

Stiles grinned and shook his head. “Did you enjoy your brownies?” he asked tentatively. He didn’t know whether Derek had made them for her or just tossed the batter out rather than admit he’d been anywhere near Stiles.

“Fuck yes, I enjoyed those brownies,” Erica said emphatically. “You better warn your dad that if you suddenly disappear it’s because I kidnapped you to be my personal patissier.”

Stiles laughed again. “He’d just kidnap me back. No way is he letting someone else take constant advantage of my baking skills when he can’t."

Erica sent him a quizzical look. “Why can’t your dad have your baking?”

Stiles shrugged. “He needs to cut down on foods that are high in sugar, salt, and fat. He doesn’t like to stick to his diet, so I don’t bake for him. You know, help avoid temptation.”

Erica raised her eyebrows at the idea of a teen not only knowing his father needed a healthy diet, but actually enforcing it.

They pulled up to the garage and Erica reached into the back to grab the papers Derek needed. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Stiles. He nodded and pulled out his phone to occupy himself.

When Erica walked into Derek’s office, he immediately turned toward her, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. She smirked, knowing he could smell Stiles on her, privately amused that he was already so familiar with the boy’s scent. He opened his mouth to question her about it, but she cut in before he could say anything.

“Why does Stiles think you’re mad at him?”

Derek blinked, then frowned. “I’m not mad at Stiles.”

“I know that,” Erica rolled her eyes. “I’m asking why Stiles _thinks_ you’re mad at him.”

Derek rubbed a hand down his face. She could tell from his expression that he had an idea of why Stiles would think that. “How do you know that Stiles thinks that?”

“He told me,” Erica said impatiently. “He said you probably wouldn’t want him to come to the garage because he’d made you upset. I told him you wouldn’t even see him if he stayed in the car, so I had to leave him there.”

“Wait, he’s in your car right now?” Derek asked. “Why? Did something happen to his Jeep again?”

“No,” Erica huffed, “One of his friends was supposed to give him a ride but forgot and he missed the bus and I still want to know why Stiles thinks he pissed you off.”

Derek sighed. He really didn’t want to get into this with Erica. He’d never meant to make Stiles feel like he was at fault for something. It wasn’t Stiles’ fault that Derek wanted to ravish him. The boy was clearly in need of someone to call a friend and Derek was sick for wanting to twist that into something else. Derek rubbed a hand down his face and stood.

“Hello?” Erica insisted still awaiting an answer to her question. Derek cast her a sharp glance as he walked past her out of the office.

Erica sighed. She’d kind of been hoping for that reaction, but she also wanted to know the answer to her question, damn it.

Derek walked straight over to her car and tapped on the window. Stiles looked up from his phone, and his eyes widened in horror. He quickly hit the lock button and turned in the passenger seat so he was facing the other direction.

Derek sighed and walked around to the driver’s side. “Open the doors, Erica.”

Erica glared, but nonetheless hit the unlock button on the key fob. Derek opened the door before Stiles could lock it again and slid in the driver’s seat. Stiles gave Erica a betrayed look through the window before huddling in the seat and doing his best not to look anywhere near Derek’s direction.

“Stiles,” he said. The boy tensed and looked at his lap. “Stiles, please look at me.”

Rather than comply, the boy began to ramble. “Look, I’m sorry I’m here, okay. Erica picked me up and she promised you wouldn’t have to see me at all. I know I did something the other night and I promise you I’m not going to bother you anymore. I know I’ve been a nuisance and I…”

Derek placed a hand on Stiles’ knee. He was pretty sure Stiles actually stopped breathing for a moment. “I’m not upset with you, Stiles,” Derek said gently. “I know that I left in a hurry the other night, but it wasn’t really because of you.” The look Stiles gave him was pure skepticism and Derek couldn’t help but chuckle. “It really wasn’t you. I was having a great time and I regretted having to leave. It was because of something personal. I promise.”

Stiles studied his expression for several moments and then slowly began to smile. “Really?” he asked shyly.

“Really,” Derek said sincerely.

Stiles grinned brightly at him. “Okay,” he said, looking down at his lap again. His lashes fanned out against his pink cheeks as he bit his full bottom lip. He looked so cute and innocent and Derek just wanted to…

There was a sharp rap at the window. Both Stiles and Derek looked over to see Erica standing there using one hand to point to the cell phone she had in the other. Confused, Derek opened the door.

“Isaac just texted me,” she explained. “He needs to get home, like now.” Stiles couldn’t hear the blip in her heartbeat, but Derek could. He made sure his face was completely turned away from Stiles as he glared at her, already knowing what would be coming next. “Would you mind driving Stiles the rest of the way home while I go get him?” she asked sweetly.

“Oh, if you have to go pick someone else up, I can just walk home,” Stiles said easily, “No big.”

“You’re not walking home in the rain,” Erica and Derek said in unison.

“I’ll take you,” Derek said, turning back to the teen. “It’s no hassle.”

“Really?” Stiles asked, eyes wide with the worry of being a burden.

“Really,” Derek assured gently.

They moved from Erica’s car to Derek’s.

“Is it weird to say this is a very sexy car?” Stiles asked. He couldn’t seem to hold himself back around Derek. Who knew what had possessed him to ask that question when he knew the Camaro had belonged to Laura?

Derek chuckled. “Not at all,” he said. “That’s why Laura picked it. ‘A sexy car for a sexy woman,’ she said.”

Stiles laughed. “Wow, she sounds awesome.”

“She was,” Derek said with a soft smile. “She really was.”

Stiles hoped this was one of the times when the memories were welcome, not depressing. Still, as a distraction, he asked, “You remember where I live or should I give you directions?”

Derek would never admit that everything he knew about Stiles so far was already seared into his memory.

“I remember the street. You might have to point out the house,” he said.

Stiles nodded. “Erica told me she liked the brownies.”

“Yeah, they were delicious,” Derek said. “Did your mom teach you to bake too?”

He could tell he’d startled the boy.

“No, she… She liked cooking more. She didn’t bake all that often, even though she could. I learned on my own. I had a craving for cookies one day and they turned out really well so I wondered what else I could make. And then it just kind of snowballed. I’ve recently been expanding my repertoire even more.”

Derek sensed something in his tone, but couldn’t quite pick out what it was.

Stiles was thinking about how much more time he had now that his only friend had abandoned him.

“I’m happy to be a test subject for any new recipes,” Derek said, “I’m sure Erica would second that.”

Stiles chuckled. “Noted. I’ll, um, I’ll bring stuff by the garage?” he asked.

“Sure, come by anytime,” Derek encouraged. He tried to ignore how pleased Stiles smelled at that. He wondered where else the boy had to go so he wouldn’t be alone. “Did something happen to your Jeep again? Is that why you needed a ride?”

“No, my baby is fine,” Stiles said. “I just…” He couldn’t say he’d been desperately thinking of ways to try and hang out with his best friend like the pathetic loser he was. A plan which hadn’t even worked because Scott never picked him up by himself. Allison was always there. Before school, after school, Allison, Allison, Allison. She was sweet, he had to admit, but was it so wrong for Stiles to want Scott for himself for just an hour?

“I’m trying to drive her as little as possible until I can save up for some repairs,” he said instead.

Derek glanced at him, and Stiles got the sense that Derek knew he was lying. Which was ridiculous because there was no way Derek could know, not for sure. And anyway, the lie he told made perfect sense. Derek had found him broken down in the middle of the road and his Jeep did need a lot of repairs. It was totally plausible.

“You have a job?” Derek asked.

Stiles blinked, confused, but then he realized Derek was asking where he was going to get the money he was supposedly saving up. He could say yes, but he was sure Derek would ask where, and he didn’t want to go down that road because it would reveal him to be a liar sooner rather than later.

“Why? You offering?” he joked.

“Sure,” Derek said with a shrug. 

Stiles froze. “Wait, what?”

“If you want to work at the garage then a job is yours,” Derek said. “You can get paid and I can help you with your Jeep.”

There was a long silence. Stiles couldn’t believe he was really being offered a job, more time with Derek, and a chance to fix his Jeep all at once.

“Are you being serious right now?” Stiles asked hesitantly. “Because… because it would be really uncool if you were just joking around.”

Derek shook his head. “I’m not joking, Stiles. Why would I do that? I know you don’t know much about cars, but neither did Erica or Boyd or Isaac when they started. We can teach you. If that’s what you want. You don’t have to say yes.”

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles asked, managing to jolt himself out of his shock. “Yes. Yes! That would be amazing. Holy shit, yes.”

Derek chuckled. “Okay. How about you start next week? After school on Monday? I can really show you around and give you the basics.”

Stiles was slightly disappointed that he wouldn’t get to start as soon as possible the very next day. But then he remembered that even if Derek owned the garage, he still had other employees, who were also his friends, who might not be okay with him hiring Stiles out of the blue. He’d already had a lesson on how he could fuck up group dynamics in a way that made him undesirable. He hoped he wouldn’t cause trouble between Derek and his employees. He’d quit if it looked even slightly like that was the case. Derek would be too nice to get rid of him and he didn’t want to put the other man in an uncomfortable position.

“Yeah, Monday sounds perfect,” Stiles said.

“Good,” Derek said, pulling up to the curb outside Stiles’ house.

Stiles placed a hand on the door handle, but paused.

“Um. Is there anything I could bring? Like a favorite dessert that might break the ice a little?” 

Derek blinked at him. “Stiles, Erica has already adopted you. The ice is broken. If you think she hasn’t been raving about your baking skills, you’re completely wrong. Boyd and Isaac are already predisposed to be nice so they get to taste your treats too.”

“You mean they didn’t get any of the brownies?” Stiles frowned.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “You mean you thought Erica would _share_?”

Stiles laughed so hard he ran out of air and fell silent. When he calmed down, he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and sighed. “Okay, well, at least now I know to bring a separate batch for Erica.”

“You shouldn’t encourage her greediness,” Derek warned.

Stiles raised his eyebrows at him. “Would you rather have to fight her for some of whatever I make?” he asked.

“Encourage as much as you want,” Derek said immediately.

Stiles laughed again. Derek thought it was stupid how the sound made his heart flutter again. He really needed to control himself. Luckily, Stiles seemed ready to go.

“Okay, I’ll see you Monday,” Stiles said, opening the door.

“See you Monday,” Derek agreed.

Stiles walked into his house, already contemplating what he could bake to make a good first impression. An actual meal would be way too much and also, how would he carry it? So dessert was probably his best bet.

As Stiles contemplated which desserts he had mastered, Derek contemplated what he’d just gotten himself into. He was past denying he was attracted to Stiles. The boy was beautiful and Derek wanted to do all kinds of things to him. His mouth _alone_ …

Derek shook himself out of that train of that train of thought. And now he’d invited the boy to come work with him. There was no chance his Betas wouldn’t notice his attraction. Which would be fine. If that was all it was. But he didn’t just want to fuck Stiles. He wanted to kiss him sweetly and hold him in his arms and and watch The Princess Bride with him and make sure there was never any loneliness intertwined with his base scent ever again.

Derek noticed there was no other car in the driveway before he started heading back to the garage. Just like on Tuesday when he'd been over for dinner. He knew nothing about Stiles’ dad, but he imagined the man worked long hours as the Sheriff. Stiles had said the friend that was supposed to give him a ride had forgot. How often did this friend forget that Stiles had smelled and looked so resigned?

Derek recognized the look of someone who needed a place, and people, to call home. He’d seen the look in the mirror for years. He’d recognized it in each of his Betas. He couldn’t help but respond to it, the way he’d responded to his Betas, and yet it wasn’t at all the same. He wanted to claim Stiles in an entirely different sense of the word.

If he kept reminding himself of how young Stiles was, he should be able to resist. And if he found himself beginning to cross the line, he would distance himself a little bit. Even if it mean seeing hurt in those amber eyes and smelling sadness in that beautiful scent. He would stay strong.

Derek parked and walked into the garage, hoping there would be a damaged car he could bury himself in so he wouldn’t have Stiles consuming his thoughts anymore.

“So what exactly happened at Stiles’ place that made you leave in such a hurry?” Erica said. “And please start with why you were at Stiles’ place in the first place.”

Derek closed his eyes and cursed inside his head. _Fervently._ He’d forgotten about Erica. Of course she’d been listening to their conversation earlier and of course she absolutely was not going to let it go.

“Erica,” he warned.

“Oh, no,” she replied, “That’s not going to work. Because I have a distinct feeling you’re planning on being dumb about this.”

“Dumb about what?” Derek demanded, offended.

“Whatever is going on between you and Stiles,” Erica said.

“There’s nothing going on between me and Stiles. Not in the way you’re implying,” Derek said through gritted teeth.

“Except there actually is something going on,” the blonde insisted. “Unless I’m completely misreading the ocean of UST between you two. Which I’m not. So spill, Derek.”

Derek looked away from her. “There’s nothing to spill.”

Erica gave him a look that said, ‘Nice try.’

“Why were you at his house?” she asked again.

Derek sighed. He already knew she wouldn’t let this go. The longer he held out, the more persistent she would get until she’d wrested every single scrap of information out of him.

“We bumped into each other at the grocery store. He saw what was in my cart and offered to make me a real meal. I accepted. We had dinner, started your brownie batter, and then I went home.”

Erica narrowed her eyes at him. “You left. Suddenly and in enough of a hurry that he genuinely thought you were mad at him. But you told him it was a personal problem and you weren’t lying. Nothing was wrong with any of us so what was the deal?”

Derek remained stubbornly silent. They stood like that for several moments.

“It was because you realized how much you want to bone him,” Erica said. She said it suddenly enough that he was startled into looking at her with an open expression. “Knew it,” she nodded.

Derek only held out for a moment before he admitted, “I almost kissed him.”

“Well, why didn’t you?” Erica demanded.

“You can’t be serious, Erica,” Derek sneered. “He’s 16!”

“Yeah, and you want his nubile young body. And he would be happy and willing to climb you like a tree. So what’s the problem?” Erica asked.

“He’s too young,” Derek said firmly.

“Stiles doesn’t seem like your average kid. I’m sure he knows…”

“16-year-olds have no idea what they want,” Derek snapped. “Or that what they want could end up hurting them.”

Erica paused. “You know the fact that you’re so worried about it means you won’t hurt him.”

“Oh, really?” Derek asked sarcastically. “You can just guarantee I would never hurt him?”

“You wouldn’t hurt him on purpose,” she amended.

“What the fuck does it matter if it’s on purpose or not? Hurt is hurt,” Derek said.

“So you’re just going to give up without even trying?” Erica asked harshly. “You’re just going to avoid him and never see him again?”

Derek stopped at that and looked away again.

“Derek?” Erica asked slowly.

“I might have offered him a job. Which he might start Monday.”

The anger fell from Erica’s face, replaced by surprise for a moment, before she burst into laughter.

“Derek,” she gasped out before laughing some more. Finally, she calmed. “I swear no one makes me laugh like you do,” she said, fanning herself with a hand.

Derek had seen her laugh like that at other things before so he knew she meant she didn’t find anyone else’s life anywhere near as amusing as she found his.

She burst into giggles again for a few moments. “Damn, son. You're so deep in de Nile, you're scuba diving,” Erica said when she'd calmed once more.

Derek frowned at her. “I admit that I want to… that I’m attracted to him. I’m not in denial.”

“Oh, yes, you are because you don’t want to just wreck him until he’s screaming your name. You’re having _feelings_.”

Derek actually took a step back in surprise. He’d expected them to figure it out after actually seeing him with Stiles. Which Erica had, but Stiles had already been upset and she’d already told him it was his fault so of course he was going to be nicer than he usually was.

“How did you…”

“You do this thing with your eyebrows when you feel attacked by The Feelings. And your eyebrows are saying you are feeling _so attacked right now_.”

Derek stared at her in disbelief. Because _what_?

“So you’re not in denial about the attraction or the feelings, but you clearly _are_ in denial about your ability to hold yourself back if you’re seeing and interacting with Stiles every day.”

“I know how to control myself, Erica,” Derek snapped.

“You do in most cases,” she replied breezily, “This is not one of those times. But I look forward to watching the show.”

“There’s not going to be any show,” Derek growled flashing his eyes. “Nothing is going to happen between us.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Erica said.

She laughed some more on her way out of the garage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this chapter! Next update will be on Monday. Comments and kudos are life. - xoxo, inhystereks


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That Saturday, Stiles headed to Mo’s, armed with two batches of chocolate chip cookies and a small batch of sugar cookies. He knew Erica loved chocolate so one batch was for her and it had double the chocolate chips. The other batch and the sugar cookies were for everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, my lovelies. Another chapter for you! Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and kudos. You guys honestly make my day with how sweet you are. And I love knowing what you all think about the story and how they're interacting and everything. Now, on to the story!

That Saturday, Stiles headed to Mo’s, armed with two batches of chocolate chip cookies and a small batch of sugar cookies. He knew Erica loved chocolate so one batch was for her and it had double the chocolate chips. The other batch and the sugar cookies were for everyone else.

Hopefully, they were basic enough treats that no one would dissent. Stiles knew he was supposed to start work on Monday, but he wanted to officially introduce himself so he would know what to expect when he got there. If he already knew that they didn’t like him, he wouldn’t be blindsided by it when he had to work on Monday. And he would know whether he would have to do a whole lot of research so he wouldn’t have to ask for help. Also, it was definitely a bribe so maybe none of that would happen. Also, also, he would get to see Derek again two days early. Which honestly would have been a good reason all by itself.

The only thing he hadn’t taken into consideration was that Saturday was generally considered to be errand day by most people, and the garage would be incredibly crowded with people trying to get their cars checked out before they were too busy during the week.

He walked into the office part of the garage, awkwardly clutching his containers, trying to ignore the stares he was receiving and imagining stares that didn’t exist. Isaac was at the desk. Would it be weird to approach him? At least if it were Erica, he would feel more comfortable interrupting, but Isaac looked up from the papers he was looking at. Stiles absently noted the way his nostrils flared as Isaac looked directly at him.

“Stiles,” he said, his tone surprised and slightly confused. It made Stiles flush with embarrassment. He wasn’t supposed to be there.

Before he could say anything, Erica poked her head out of the private office.

“Holy shit, yes,” Erica said. She walked out, calling behind her, “Boyd, Stiles brought us goodies.”

A disembodied voice said, “Don’t curse in front of the customers, Erica.” Then came into view a tall, muscled black man. Vernon Boyd was built like a brick house.

Stiles cautiously approached the desk when Erica waved him over. “I brought cookies,” he offered. “Double chocolate chip for Erica, chocolate chip and sugar for you guys.” He handed them their respective containers.

“Haha, I’m special,” Erica said, sticking her tongue out at the others.

“More like you’re greedy and Stiles wanted everyone to have some,” Derek said from behind him.

“Oh my god,” Stiles jumped, “What is with you and appearing out of thin air? Are you magic or something?”

“Or something,” Derek smirked.

And holy shit, that should be illegal. Who was allowed to walk around looking that sexy? Stiles coughed and whirled around to face the desk again. Isaac was looking down at his papers, seeming to be stifling a smile. Boyd was looking pointedly at Erica who was looking at Stiles. How she managed to look amused and all-knowing while biting into a cookie (when had she opened the container?) Stiles would never know. Maybe there was some kind of underground coalition where hot girls learned to be scarily intelligent and kickass?

Stiles felt the need to explain why he was there. “Um. I just came by to say hi, and officially introduce myself to my new… coworkers?”

He glanced at Derek uncertainly, suddenly seized by a worry that the job offer was off the table. But Derek simply nodded and reached past him to grab a sugar cookie (when the fuck had they opened up the container?)

“If you’re going to bring treats every shift you work, I’m going to have to start going to the gym more often,” Erica said.

“Or you could restrain yourself,” Isaac muttered, almost inaudibly.

In response, Erica grabbed a chocolate chip cookie, notably not one of her own, and held it to his lips. Isaac rolled his eyes, but took a bite.

“Oh, shit,” he said, quickly snatching the cookie out of her hand and taking another bite. He chewed more slowly, swallowed, and sighed. “I’m gonna have to start going to the gym.”

Erica shot him a triumphant look.

Boyd finally grabbed a cookie and took a bite. His eyes widened before he gave Stiles a considering look and an approving nod.

Stiles tried not to slump in relief. At the very least, they all liked his baking. Even if they didn’t like him, he could appease them with that.

“Okay, well, I really did just come to say hi, and I can see you guys are really busy today, so I’ll just…” Stiles said, taking a step back.

“Oh, actually, would you mind waiting a little for it to die down?” Erica asked. “Derek was just telling me he wanted to walk you through some things before Monday.”

Stiles threw Derek a quizzical look. He was busy glaring at Erica, so it took him a moment to notice. “You could have just called me if you needed me to drop by.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t know whether it would be convenient and I didn’t have any peanut butter chocolate chip cookies to bribe you with.”

“There’s a vending machine right over there,” Stiles gestured.

“It doesn’t have Reese’s,” Derek said.

“Well, darn, guess I have to quit before I even start,” Stiles chuckled. When Derek remained serious, his smile dropped and his eyes widened. “Wait, does it seriously not have Reese’s?”

After a beat, Derek smirked.

“Ugh,” Stiles said when he realized Derek was just joking. “Butthole.”

Derek’s eyebrows flew up. “What did you just call me?”

“Boyd said not to curse in front of the customers,” Stiles replied haughtily, “If you have a problem with my word choice, then stop being a butthole.”

“Oh, yeah,” Erica said, popping their little bubble. “We’re definitely keeping you Stiles. You have snacks and sass.”

Stiles grinned. “What every coworker should bring to the table.”

Isaac gave them a flat look. “Everyone being sassy probably wouldn’t end well.”

“He said sassily,” Stiles said.

Erica outright laughed while the boys just grinned.

“There are one or two things I should talk to you about,” Derek said. “Would you mind waiting?”

“No problem. Should I just…” He pointed to the public waiting room.

“You can wait in the office,” Derek said. “I’ll come back and talk to you once it’s a little slower.”

“Mr. Hale,” a voice said, “I’m not sure I understand this form. Could you come explain it to me?”

Derek’s expression went blank. He turned and walked over. Stiles tried not to judge the woman for twirling a lock of hair around her finger like a teenager. He failed. He felt bad for Derek, because the woman was still clearly trying to flirt with him even though he wasn’t responsive. It was cringeworthy. Rather than watch, he decided to go wait in the private office.

He walked around the desk and headed toward the back. “I’ll just wait out the rush in here.”

“Thanks for the cookies,” Isaac said, as Stiles walked past. Immediately, Erica and Boyd offered their own thanks also.

“No problem,” Stiles said with a grin. He wondered if he should start looking up new recipes to try while he waited, but stopped once he actually entered the office. Stiles was surprised by how messy it was. It seemed to be a somewhat organized chaos, but still. There were papers all over the desk, filing cabinet drawers half-open as if someone had been looking for something they couldn’t find, styrofoam cups half-filled with coffee, a table in the corner with tools dumped on it.

Stiles tried to sit and concentrate on finding new recipes, but he kept getting distracted by counting all the things that seemed out of place. That happened to him sometimes. He would realize things were a mess and his brain wouldn’t stop poking him about it until everything was organized. Maybe it would make a good impression if he cleaned up a little. He would seem helpful and efficient, right?

There was a door that led to a small kitchen. Stiles gathered up all the cups, poured out any liquid they had, and tossed them. He grabbed a rag, which he hoped wasn’t used for anything else, and wiped down the table, before organizing all the tools on it by similarity and size. _Death of a Bachelor_ started playing in his head, so of course he had to play the whole album. Because it was a fantastic album. So Derek walked in on him cleaning and listening to music.

Derek stood in the doorway, watching as Stiles apparently tried to figure out his filing system, occasionally shaking his hips to the music playing from his phone.

“A ker-thunk sound?” Stiles muttered to himself, squinting at a piece of paper. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Probably that there’s something wrong with the transmission,” Derek answered.

Stiles jerked, nearly slamming a knee into the cabinet while he scrambled up. “Make some noise when you walk, dude! My heart can’t take this Apparating shit.”

“Sorry,” Derek smirked in a way that meant he wasn’t sorry at all.

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned back to the files he’d been organizing. “You all must have some pretty amazing memories because I have no idea how you know when appointments are and what they’re about otherwise.”

Derek shrugged. He usually went through all the papers on the desk to see which appointments he had the next day. It was time consuming and sometimes he was still caught off guard with appointments he hadn’t expected, but generally it worked.

Derek sat in the desk chair and relaxed. For several minutes, he just watched Stiles file, occasionally humming, occasionally dancing along to the music. Then Stiles’ head snapped in his direction and he said, “Oh, shit, you wanted to talk to me about stuff.”

“I was going to talk to you about your training for cars,” Derek shrugged, “But it looks like you found your own niche. This place does need to be more organized. If you want to take care of that, you can.”

Stiles blinked. Derek was basically saying he would give Stiles free reign to change how the garage was run. He seemed entirely unconcerned. Which made Stiles wonder exactly how independently wealthy Derek was outside of what he made from the garage. He’d seen what Derek charged people, and it was more than fair. It was actually a bit on the low side. The garage wasn’t badly managed, but there were a few obvious ways it could be better managed. Like having an established filing system.

The idea appealed to him immensely. It would basically be his job to make Derek’s life easier. But he did still actually want to learn about cars so he could fix his Jeep if it broke down again.

“I wouldn’t mind that, but would you still teach me about cars? That way I could help out if it got busy or something or if you needed to fix a lot of cars in a short amount of time?” Stiles offered.

“I could show you stuff after we close,” Derek offered. He immediately cursed himself. Why would it be a good idea for him and Stiles to be alone at the garage after he’d closed? Maybe Erica was right and he wouldn’t last long like this, but he couldn’t take it back now that he’d offered it. Either the lessons on cars or the job at the garage itself. He knew enough by now to know that Stiles would just blame himself even if Derek assured him it wasn’t because of anything he’d done. 

“Yeah, that sounds fine,” Stiles said. He fell into a daydream of Derek standing behind him, pressed close, pointing out the different parts of an engine. Quickly, he shook himself out of it. That was totally unrealistic. And there was no way Derek would be into him. Even if that did happen, which it wouldn’t, it would only be because it wouldn’t occur to Derek that it could be construed in any way other than completely innocent.

Derek nodded. “It’s settled then. Did you want to keep going with whatever you’re doing or just wait until Monday?”

Stiles didn’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. If he left, he would just be at home alone doing homework that wasn’t due for weeks.

“I mean, I could stay if it won’t bother anybody,” he shrugged. “After all, I wasn’t exactly supposed to be here today.”

“You came bearing gifts,” Derek said dryly, “I don’t think anyone minded.”

“We didn’t mind!” Erica called from the front.

Stiles frowned. Derek hadn’t been speaking that loudly. Neither had he, for that matter. And the office door was closed. How had Erica heard that?

He shook his head. He could totally see Erica with her ear pressed up against the door, out of sheer nosiness. Though it had sounded like she yelled and it hadn’t sounded like she was that close…

“Were you looking at the forms with descriptions of what was wrong with the car?” Derek asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Stiles said. “They seem to be kind of vague? Or like you guys write down what the customer says the problem is before you check the car and know for sure.”

“Basically,” Derek agreed. “Only a few customers know enough to be specific, and even then, sometimes they’re wrong about what the problem is.”

Stiles hummed. “Do you guys have to order parts a lot?”

Derek shrugged. “Sometimes, but not that often, I don’t think.” 

Stiles nodded again. He was trying to control himself, but he was getting excited about the project of making the garage more efficient. He wondered if he could manage to get Derek more customers. He walked over to the desk to get his phone so he could start making a list of all the changes that could be made.

Stiles kept his gaze on his phone when he said, “Hey, so, I just wanted to say thanks. For the job.”

“It’s no problem, Stiles,” Derek said gently. “I have the feeling business will be better than ever now that you’re here.”

Stiles tried to suppress the warm tendrils of pleasure that unfurled in his gut. He hoped he could live up to Derek’s expectations.

-

“Hey, Isaac!” Stiles called. The tall boy was all the way at the end of the crowded hallway. It was loud, everybody rushing to get away from the building that had held them captive for the past 8 hours. Stiles was pretty sure Isaac wouldn’t be able to hear him calling.

But the other teen turned and looked directly at him. Stiles motioned for him to wait as he rushed down the hallway, dodging one person and tripping over someone else’s backpack.

“Hey,” he panted as he walked up to the boy. “I, um, I was just wondering if you wanted a ride to the garage?”

Isaac looked surprised. “Oh, yeah, sure.” He seemed a bit hesitant, which immediately made Stiles want to back off.

“I mean, if you have a normal routine or something that you don’t want to mess with, that’s fine. I know we don’t, like, know each other,” Stiles blurted with embarrassment.

Something flashed across Isaac’s face and he leaned away from Stiles slightly. “No, I guess we…” He paused and tilted his head, nostrils flaring. Then he continued, more relaxed. “We haven’t really talked before, but we can get to know each other now. Right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, relieved he wasn’t just being summarily dismissed. “Yeah, absolutely. Let’s go then.”

They got to the chaotic parking lot.

“I’m guessing you know which car is mine,” Stiles joked. He wasn’t even being conceited. His Jeep was very distinctive.

“Yeah,” Isaac said, “It’s that silver Sedan, right?”

He pointed to a car on the opposite side of the parking lot from where the Jeep was. Stiles laughed.

“No, it’s that red pickup across the street,” he chuckled. Isaac smiled and looked away. Getting out of the parking lot was a nightmare. Stiles drove extra carefully to make up for the recklessness of his peers. Finally, they were on their way.

“So how long you been working at the garage?” Stiles asked. He tapped his fingers restlessly, torn between turning on music or keeping it off. If he turned it on, they could lapse into silence without it being awkward. With it off, it would be easier to hear each other. Though, from the fact that he’d heard him in that hallway, it seemed that Isaac had really great hearing. Just like Erica.

“Just a few months now,” he said. “Nowhere near as long as Erica and Boyd.”

“Aw, so you’re the baby of the group,” Stiles teased. “Do they treat you like that?”

“Like a baby?” Isaac asked, eyebrows raised.

“I don’t know, just, they’re all adults, right? Do they treat you like a kid because you’re still in high school?” Stiles asked.

“I don’t… it’s not like… they treat me like a _kid brother_. Like they tease me and shit, and Erica likes to pinch my cheeks because she’s exactly that type of asshole. But it’s not demeaning or condescending at all,” Isaac said. 

“Cool, cool,” Stiles said. He wondered if they would be the same with him. Not at the beginning of course, but eventually. Would they all be friends? Or would he be the one left out, on the edge, unable to truly be a part of the group? Again.

He glanced over at Isaac while they were at a light. He had his eyes trained on Stiles’ hands where his fingers were still tapping against the steering wheel. Stiles forced himself to stop and didn’t even realize that he immediately started gnawing on his bottom lip once his fingers were still.

Isaac noticed and released an inaudible sigh.

“It’s not like school,” he said.

Stiles looked at him.

“It’s a safe space,” Isaac said. He wanted to cringe at his word choice, but he didn’t know how else to describe it. “No one is going to exclude you or make you feel bad or hurt you or take advantage of you. They wouldn’t do that. Derek wouldn’t do that.”

“I know Derek wouldn’t do that,” Stiles said. He seemed about to say something else, but the car behind them started honking pretty aggressively, at which point they realized the light was green.

They got to the garage and Isaac pretended not to notice when Stiles hesitated in getting out. They walked in.

“Oh, it’s almost 3 already?” Erica asked when she saw them. She glanced at the clock then back at them.

“Nah, Stiles drove us over,” Isaac said.

“You’re driving your Jeep again?” Erica asked.

Stiles shrugged. “I figured I should bring it over so Derek can tell me where I should start with fixing it.”

“Makes sense,” Erica shrugged, “No goodies today?”

Stiles blinked. “Oh, I thought you were joking about me bringing something every day. I mean, I can. I just…” he sputtered.

“Aw, aren’t you adorable,” Erica cooed as she walked over. “I’m just messing with you. We’re happy to have your cute face whether you bring treats or not.”

She swiped a hand across his buzzcut seeming to like the bristle-like texture against the palm of her hand.

Stiles blushed and mouthed ‘Cute face?’ to Isaac, who simply smirked at him. Erica had called him ‘puppy’ for the first month after he’d been turned. Stiles could handle being called cute for a while.

“Derek and Boyd went out on a supply run. He said something about you doing administration stuff?” Erica said.

“Um, yeah, I was gonna finish organizing the files in the back and then maybe make an online calendar for you guys to know when you have appointments.”

Erica’s eyebrows went up. “You’re going to try to make this place more efficient?”

“I’m going to succeed in making this place more efficient. And learn about cars while I’m at it,” Stiles said. He wondered whether he’d been too aggressive, but Erica and Isaac were grinning at him.

“That’s definitely the right idea,” Boyd sad from behind him.

Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin and it took everything in him to not shriek like a banshee.

“Bells! Bells should be an official part of the uniform!” Stiles yelled once his heart had calmed a little.

“What makes you think we wouldn’t be able to sneak up on you even with the bells?” Derek asked from next to him. And Stiles swore he hadn’t been there a second ago.

Stiles jumped slightly again, and then squinted at all of them. “Oh, I see how it is.” 

Isaac, concerned Stiles thought they were making fun of him, spoke first. “You see what?”

“I’m going to have to get used to you guys just randomly appearing or…” He smirked, “I could just get back at you all whenever you do it.”

Erica leaned forward, intrigued. “Get back at us how?”

“Bring desserts and not share,” Stiles said promptly.

Their eyes widened.

“Goddamn, you don’t play games,” Isaac said.

“I love games,” Stiles said, with a beatific smile. “I also love winning.”

They were all silent and Stiles began to feel a bit nervous again.

Until Erica said, “Dibs on Stiles!”

“You can’t call dibs!” Derek and Isaac protested.

“Too late, losers,” Erica smirked, “Already did.”

“He’s my age, I should have dibs,” Isaac said.

“Well if you wanted dibs, you should have said,” she replied, clearly pleased with herself.

Isaac opened his mouth to retort, but Derek spoke up.

“I call dibs on Stiles. No takebacks. Times infinity.”

“Holy shit,” Stiles whispered.

No takebacks? Times infinity? That was like a goddamn marriage vow.

Derek glanced over at him and something flickered across his face, before he went back to looking smug and assured, like he’d just won something.

“I called dibs first,” Erica said petulantly.

“You should have said no takebacks,” Derek shrugged.

Erica growled at him. Stiles blinked. There was really no other way to describe the sound that had just left her throat except to call it a growl.

“Guys, guys, you’ll have plenty of time to fight over me later,” Stiles interrupted with a laugh. “I am gonna be around pretty often.”

“Well, since I already won, there’s not really any reason to fight, but we should eat and get back to work,” Derek said.

“Eat?” Stiles asked, finally noticing the scent of food. He turned to Boyd, who had remained silent this whole time. He had food bags from the diner in his hands. 

When Stiles’ attention moved in his direction, Boyd spoke. “Derek insisted on getting you curly fries,” he said.

“Oh my god, marry me,” Stiles said, looking at Derek with wide eyes.

“As you wish,” Derek replied. Stiles grinned at him, remembering the conversation they’d had at dinner. Then he turned to Boyd, asking which bag had his curly fries in it.

Despite himself, Derek looked over at Erica and Isaac to see what their reactions were. They were giving him twin expressions of half amusement, half judgment. Derek just knew Erica was thinking about when she’d warned him he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

But he would, he insisted to himself. Giving Stiles a job and calling dibs and buying him curly fries and having inside jokes didn’t mean anything. It didn’t.

And then Stiles pulled some curly fries out of the bag and popped them into his mouth. He moaned, long and low. Then he licked his fingers, popping his whole index finger into his mouth and pulling it out slowly before licking his sinful lips.

“You’re drooling,” Isaac said below Stiles’ level of hearing.

Derek snapped out of it. He wasn’t really drooling, but he had leaned forward to focus on Stiles’ mouth like the perv he apparently was.

He was so fucked.

-

When Stiles finished with his fries, he went to the back office.

He stopped in his tracks when he realized what was different. Someone had removed the tools from the table in the back corner and covered it with other items. A few binders, different colored markers, different colored filing folders, and…

Was that what Stiles thought it was? He approached the table cautiously. He examined the box without touching it. It was what he thought it was. Stiles turned back around and walked back out of the office.

The others were still standing around the desk and they all turned to look at him when he walked out.

“Is everything okay?” Isaac asked. 

Stiles just focused his attention on Derek. “Did you get me a label maker?”

“Yes,” Derek said, like he wasn’t sure whether he should admit to it.

Stiles stared at him a moment longer before grinning and saying, "Dibs on Derek. No takebacks times infinity.”

Then he turned and darted back into the office, not knowing they could hear him as he quietly said in an awed voice, “He got me a label maker.”

Derek refused to smile, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Ugh, we can smell how pleased you are, you smug bastard,” Erica scoffed, “No use trying to hide it.”

Derek shrugged and moved into the garage and under the hood of a car where he could grin in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't they cute? Thanks for reading this chapter! Comments and kudos are life! I'll see y'all on Thursday. ;) - xoxo, inhystereks


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the next few weeks, Stiles actually did help the garage become more efficient. In no way had Derek been running it badly. They’d actually been making a pretty fair profit, despite the fact that Derek didn’t charge exorbitantly like most other garages. Actually, probably because of that. 
> 
> But Stiles did implement some small economizations that helped them save even more money.
> 
> It started with the mugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all have continued to bless me with your compliments. Thank you so much to everyone reading this story. I'm so excited that it's been so well-received. Second to last chapter, y'all. On with the story!

Over the next few weeks, Stiles actually did help the garage become more efficient. In no way had Derek been running it badly. They’d actually been making a pretty fair profit, despite the fact that Derek didn’t charge exorbitantly like most other garages. Actually, probably because of that. 

But Stiles did implement some small economizations that helped them save even more money.

It started with the mugs.

“We use cups for the customers, which is fine, but we’d reduce the amount of cups we use in general if all the employees had their own mug or two. Plus, there would be way fewer half-filled cups of coffee all over the place, which means I would stop knocking them over and having to clean up spills.”

Stiles paused, seeming to contemplate adding something, before falling silent.

“Something else?” Derek asked with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles shrugged. “Not really.”

“We can tell when you’re lying, Stiles,” Erica said. “What else do you want to tell us?”

Stiles shook his head. “I don’t want to bombard you with a whole bunch of random changes."

“They’re not random,” Boyd said. “Which is why we’re willing to listen to you.”

“Okay. Um. I was kind of thinking we should get a Keurig. That way everyone can make single cups instead of brewing a whole pot and letting it burn or get cold. And that way each person can get two boxes of whatever flavor they like and that should last a month. And if you run out, you go buy some more with your own money.”

The others glanced at each other. There wasn’t really much ‘your own money’ in an adult Pack. They pooled any and all resources. But they got the idea.

It only took three mugs breaking for them to stop leaving mugs all over the place. And it only took a month for them to stop brewing so much coffee so carelessly.

Meanwhile, Stiles took Boyd’s words to heart and ran with it, making any and all changes he could justify with moderately logical reasoning. He rearranged the furniture in the public office so the space was more open and comfortable. He started a little shelf for a book exchange. He found out there was a sound system and figured out how to make it loud in the garage and quieter in the offices, creating a playlist of songs they were all okay with, taking suggestions and modifying every few days so they weren’t constantly listening to the same songs. He created a new inventory database so they always knew what parts they had. He also did some math to figure out which parts they needed most often so they could buy those in bulk and make it a bit cheaper. He made new forms that allowed them to put client’s names, the make and model of their cars, contact information, and specific descriptions for what the client said was wrong and what they said was wrong with the vehicle, even allowing space for Isaac’s beautifully detailed drawings of engines. He made them a website. He brought baked goods to share with them and the customers. He made an online calendar of appointments and synced all their emails to it.

Over that time, he also got closer to Derek and the others. Once he saw the other teen’s drawings, he started pulling Isaac into rambling conversations about art. He bought Isaac his own sketchbook and pencils, and after a while managed to convince him to take an amateur charcoal class at the community center. Isaac’s hands were always stained, whether from charcoal or grease, but he would excitedly show them all what he’d accomplished in class with angelic grins they couldn’t help but return. Isaac and Stiles took trips to the museum in the city some weekends. In Boyd’s car, because Derek refused to let him drive the Jeep that far.

He gently nudged Erica into dealing with customers more often, which she usually avoided because it pissed her off to deal with sexist bullshit. Derek helped with that a lot. He would patiently listen to customer complaints and rather than repeat whatever Erica had told them, he would just say, “Erica is right,” or “Erica knows what she’s doing,” forcing them to acknowledge her advice and diagnosis of the problem. In the rare cases she was wrong, he would still support her and then just quietly tell her what she should actually do. Stiles and Erica also bonded over comic books, if you could call passionate arguments bonding. And when he found out why she always wore makeup in the garage despite it feeding into the sexist stereotypes she hated, that it had helped her regain her confidence in herself around the time she’d started hanging out with Derek, he encouraged her to start making tutorials on YouTube. Tuesdays for makeup, Thursdays for car repair. Because she was gorgeous _and_ self-sufficient.

Stiles joked around with Boyd until he actually joked back and started taking him out for ice cream. It made him feel like a kid going out with his cool older brother. Which he accidentally said out loud when he thought about it. Which prompted one of Boyd’s rare full-out grins and earned Stiles a brotherly ruffling of his hair. He smoothed it back down with an indignant sound and it reminded him that he should probably cut it again soon.

He also couldn’t help but notice their odd little quirks. They all had exceptionally good hearing, consistently commenting on things he’d said under his breath. Plus, they had an unusual amount of strength. Stiles was pretty sure he’d seen Erica lift the back end of a car for Isaac to check something with almost no effort. They were excellent at guessing what he’d baked for them without having seen it, and their nostrils always flared when they did, like they could actually smell what he’d made through the sealed containers. He knew he wasn’t imagining things, but he also knew better than to go around spouting off about how weirdly advanced their senses were. It was easy to put it to the back of his mind.

Stiles’ favorite part about the garage was how much time he got to spend with Derek, both during work and after when Derek would teach him about the complicated inner workings of automobiles.

He loved the shivery feeling he got in his insides when Derek placed a hand on the back of his neck and told him to be still. He loved the feeling he got when he correctly answered a question about cars, and Derek smiled and told him “Good job.” He loved the way Derek would press up behind him to show him something.

They started getting takeout to finish their lessons and the intimate dinners with just the two of them became Stiles’ favorite part of the day.

Stiles and Derek talked about everything. Stiles told him about school, Scott, his dad, even a bit more about his mom. And Derek talked to him too. He was vague about how he met Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, but he told Stiles all about the fun they had together. Very rarely, he would talk about his family and the way something that had happened reminded him of one of his siblings, parents, cousins, or various other family members. Stiles got to hear about Laura most often.

It was nice and the more he talked and spent time with Derek, the better he got at reading him. Like the way he kept subtly encouraging a friendship with Isaac, because he disapproved of Scott. It was like that with all of them. The longer he knew them, the better he got at identifying their tells.

He eventually decided to use Isaac as a base to figure out whatever it was they were hiding. Because they were hiding something. But it didn’t seem to be anything dangerous or illegal so Stiles was content to keep making observations instead of actively figuring it out.

He kept trying to hang out with Scott, though as the weeks passed, that became more habit than anything else. Stiles knew everyone seemed to dislike Scott. The only one who seemed willing to give him a chance was Erica, and that was mostly because of Stiles’ retellings of the highlights of their friendship.

All in all, Stiles was pretty happy with the direction his life was going. He wasn’t alone anymore and he got to spend time with the most beautiful, kind, charming man in existence. He knew Derek would never feel the same way about him. Stiles was amazed Derek was even willing to be friends. Which was why he was determined to be content with what they already had. He would never try to push for more in case he lost Derek’s friendship and respect and the new place he’d found. 

He still had to go home to an empty house sometimes, but more and more often he found himself staying over at Derek’s house with the others. Isaac practically lived there, even though technically he lived with his dad. (But Stiles had inferred enough about _that_ situation to get why Isaac stayed with Derek as much as possible.)

It didn’t take long at all for Derek to offer him one of the many rooms, but more often than not, Stiles fell asleep on the couch with Derek as they talked or watched a movie or just sat next to each other enjoying each other’s company. He couldn't help the way sometimes his last thought before sleep took him was ‘Home sweet home.’

-

Erica had been right. Derek would never admit it to her face, but he didn't actually have to. She pointed out how much more besotted he got with Stiles every single day. 

Not that he could actually help it. He was caught up in the whirlwind, inexorably pulled in by Stiles’ gravity. How Stiles could be simultaneously grounding to Derek’s soul and exciting to all his senses, Derek couldn’t possibly understand. But he was addicted by now. There was no denying his cravings for Stiles’s very presence.

Every day that Stiles came into the garage, improving it so that it ran smoothly, more efficiently, had more customers. Every night that they spent shoulder to shoulder, Stiles intently listening to every word of Derek’s explanations. Every time he saw Stiles spending time with a member of his Pack. Derek only wanted him more.

Wanted to wrap him up and hide him from the disappointment of his best friend and father. Wanted to let him know how precious he was. Wanted to feed him and protect him and love him. Wanted Stiles writhing under him, screaming, panting, moaning, whimpering his name. Derek could hardly work around his intense desire to have Stiles as close to him as possible at all times.

It didn’t help at all that Stiles had gotten more playful the more he got to know Derek. 

They were in the garage one night and Stiles was refusing to give Derek a tool he needed. They both knew Derek could catch him easily if he wanted. Instead, he chased Stiles around, letting the boy continuously slip through his fingers.

“You’re such a brat,” Derek growled.

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do about it?” Stiles teased smugly. He turned slightly and wiggled a bit, putting his ass on display. “Spank me?”

It was only a joke, but Derek reacted to the challenge without thinking. His arm shot out and he dragged Stiles close enough to land three sharp swats on his ass. “Behave,” he said sternly as he released the boy.

Stiles stumbled a few steps away, one hand pressed where Derek had spanked him. Derek took in his flushed cheeks and dilated eyes and was suddenly overwhelmed with the scent of Stiles’ arousal. His eyes trailed down to where Stiles was clearly tenting his coveralls. Then embarrassment and shame started to cloud the heady scent and Derek’s control snapped.

Before Stiles could run, Derek had his arms around him, not tight enough to hurt, but there was no way Stiles was getting out of his hold.

“That what you need to behave yourself?” Derek asked, looking down at the teen, “A spanking?”

Stiles was absolutely still for a moment. And then, “Please don’t… don’t tease me. I can’t…” He shook his head and exhaled in a way that sounded a lot like a muffled sob.

Derek moved a hand to tilt Stiles’ face up and kissed him. He poured every ounce of want into that kiss. Every time he’d kept himself from touching Stiles, from holding him, from pressing their mouths together, from pinning him down and just taking. He sucked Stiles’ bottom lip into his mouth and scraped his teeth against it before sweeping his tongue into Stiles’ mouth and tasting every part of it. Stiles went limp in his hold with a broken whimper. He stroked Derek’s tongue with his own, but seemed perfectly happy to let the other man have control.

Derek pulled away slightly, let his forehead rest against Stiles’. “I’m not teasing you. Do you understand how much I want you? How long I’ve wanted you?”

Stiles shook his head with a small uncertain sound.

“That first time you made me dinner, I left in such a hurry because I was starting to picture kissing you.”

Stiles gasped and looked up at him with wide eyes. Before he could speak, Derek placed both hands on Stiles’ hips and pulled him in tight, grinding against him. Stiles gasped and moaned. 

“That’s all for you, baby. You drive me fucking crazy,” Derek growled. He took a hand from Stiles’ hip and smacked his ass again. The boy keened.

“Please,” he gasped, “Please D-” He cut himself off, but Derek already knew that Stiles hadn’t been about to say his name.

“It’s okay, baby boy, you can say it,” Derek encouraged. “I want you to say it.” He leaned in and licked at Stiles’ neck before sucking just under the hinge of his jaw.

Stiles jerked under him with a moan. Then he whispered, “Please, Daddy.”

Derek growled and then maneuvered them so they were up against a wall. “Say it again,” he demanded.

“Daddy,” Stiles gasped, more boldly this time. “Daddy, please.”

Derek gathered Stiles’ wrists in one hand and pushed them up against the wall. He rolled his hips, reveling in the way Stiles gasped and whimpered.

“You’re so pretty, sweetheart,” Derek said, low and gravelly. “Look at you all flushed and ready for me.”

Stiles’ lids slid open halfway. Dark pleasure had swallowed up the whiskey of his eyes. He looked dazed, cheeks warm, mouth spit-slick and swollen with kisses. “I can’t wait to get that mouth on me,” Derek muttered, pressing forward to increase friction as their hips rolled together. There was too much fabric, but he didn’t have the patience take Stiles’ clothes off without ripping them.

“You’d be such a good boy and just swallow me down, wouldn’t you? My perfect boy.”

Stiles shuddered and released a high-pitched whimper. Derek could smell the come seeping into the fabric of his clothes. He paused for a moment while Stiles trembled, not wanting to continue while he would be over-sensitive. But then Stiles started talking. 

“I’ve thought about it, you know. That first night, when you ordered me to lock my door, your voice was so commanding. And I remembered thinking I would do anything you said if you spoke to me like that. I would just get on my knees and take anything you wanted to give me. You think you can’t wait? I’ve had dreams of you fucking my throat raw, Daddy.”

Derek silenced him with his mouth, desperately rutting into the groove of Stiles’ hip while he reached his release.

He kept his face buried in Stiles throat, wanting to make sure his eyes weren’t shining red before he looked at the delectable boy who would certainly be the death of him. Stiles stayed loose and relaxed, slowly rubbing his jaw against what he could of Derek’s, breathing slow and steady. If Derek didn’t know better, he would say Stiles was scent marking him. It calmed him even if he knew Stiles wasn’t doing it on purpose.

Stiles was content to wait until Derek was ready to move. He’d already released his wrists, so he was free to curl them around Derek’s shoulders. When Derek lifted his head, Stiles wasn’t sure what he expected, but the achingly tender kiss Derek pressed to his mouth seemed at once surprising and fitting.

It dispelled any doubts he’d had about whatever this was being purely about sex. Derek had mentioned being attracted to him from the beginning, so much so that he’d run away. But that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted anything besides mutual getting off sessions. The way he’d kissed Stiles just now, though, was filled with such affection and care. Stiles was glad to know that both his attraction and his feelings were returned.

Derek shifted so he was hugging Stiles, just holding him close for a moment.

“Is your dad home?” Derek asked.

“Nope. He’s working the night shift tonight. Won’t be back until tomorrow morning,” Stiles said.

“I propose we go back to your place and talk,” Derek said.

Stiles knew better than to suggest the Hale house with all the others who could hear so well. “Okay,” he said. “Is talking a euphemism for something else?”

Derek huffed a laugh, wondering why he was so captivated by this ridiculous boy. “No. But there’s always time for fun after we talk, impatient brat.”

Stiles shivered at the nickname.

“I’m gonna go change into the spare clothes I have in the office. I’d rather not have to sit in the car with come drying in my boxers.”

Derek snorted. He’d have to use an extra pair of coveralls, but he felt the same way. He placed another chaste peck on Stiles’ mouth before reluctantly letting Stiles go. He didn’t chastise himself too much for being an idiot when he saw the way his actions made Stiles smile.

At Stiles’ house, they settled onto the couch. Stiles hesitantly leaned against Derek, and Derek pulled him into his lap, shifting them so they were both comfortable.

“Is there anything you want to ask me?” Derek asked.

He could tell Stiles was surprised by him ceding control of the conversation, but he wanted the boy to feel comfortable telling him if there was anything he was concerned about. He might as well encourage that habit early on.

Stiles’ eyes lit up and he opened his mouth, but then he snapped it shut and shook his head. Derek frowned, wondering what he’d been about to ask, but he was distracted by Stiles’ next question.

“How did you know? What I wanted to call you?”

Derek blinked and tilted his head, trying to figure out how to answer that. He’d dabbled in the scene in New York, desperate to find some type of distraction, but also to feel like he was doing something to help someone. He’d had this mentality that he was only good for his body since he hadn’t been intelligent enough to see…

It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that domming, even as casually and sporadically as he did, required more than just a muscled body. But he also figured out he was pretty good at it. Being a werewolf more than helped him figure out what was good for people and what wasn’t. He’d gained a reputation for not playing often, but being one of the best when he did. The fact was, he’d always attracted Stiles’ type, even before he was an Alpha. People looking for someone strong and attractive to take care of them with a firm, but gentle hand. He’d simply recognized what Stiles needed because he’d come across it so many times before. But he didn’t know whether telling Stiles that would be comforting because it would let him know he wasn’t alone, or if it would make him upset because he would feel like he wasn’t special to Derek.

Finally, he said, “The simple answer is that I just knew.”

“And the complicated answer is…” Stiles asked, eyebrows raised.

“I’ve been with people who’ve had that particular kink before,” Derek said slowly.

Stiles shifted, seeming conflicted between pulling away and staying put. Derek tightened his grip. Stiles stayed put.

“You’ve been other people’s Daddy before,” he said quietly.

“For a night or a few,” Derek replied, cupping Stiles cheek and tilting his head so they could look in each other’s eyes. “But I want so much more than a night with you, Stiles.”

That made Stiles relax a bit more. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re unlikely to think I’m a freak,” he said self-deprecatingly.

“No more than you think I’m a freak for getting off on it too,” Derek said with a quirked brow.

Stiles blinked in surprise as if he’d forgotten Derek had been a willing participant in their earlier sexcapade.

“Oh,” he said, like he’d just discovered something. He tilted his head and smiled sweetly and said, “Daddy.”

Derek closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He tried to keep his eyes from changing, but was unable to refrain from tightening his grip on Stiles’ hips.

Stiles shifted forward, his hands sliding up Derek’s arms, his shoulders, to cup his face, thumbs stroking the stubble along his cheeks.

“Daddy,” he murmured against Derek’s mouth.

Derek lurched forward and claimed his mouth. They kissed frantically. Derek’s hands slid up Stiles’ shirt pressing fingerprints into his skin. Stiles whined and tried to push closer. He slid his tongue along Derek’s canines and Derek bit down sharply on his bottom lip in response. He pulled back and licked across the bite to soothe the sting.

“We’re supposed to be talking,” Derek said huskily.

“You already told me you want this to be more than just the night. What’s there to talk about?” Stiles asked, leaning in again.

Derek held him still.

“You didn’t exactly say how you felt about it.”

At that, Stiles pulled back and looked at him incredulously. “Are you serious? Of course I want more than a night with you. I’d take anything I could get with you.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because Derek sighed and shifted him off his lap, standing and pacing a little. 

“I don’t want you to have that mentality, Stiles,” he said. “Because that would make it really easy for me to take advantage of you and I don’t want to do that.”

“Hello? In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been giving some pretty enthusiastic consent. I don’t think that counts as you taking advantage of me.”

“Not like that,” Derek sighed. “It’s just… you’re pretty young…”

“Oh god, is that what this is about? You think I’m too young to know what I’m really consenting to?” Stiles huffed.

“I’m not saying you’re not smart, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have a problem saying when you didn’t like something. I… I know what it’s like to want to please someone enough that you do things you might not feel comfortable with.”

It was quiet.

Derek looked over to see Stiles staring at him, mind whirring, making connections, painting a picture.

“I don’t think you would hurt me on purpose. Am I wrong in thinking that?” Stiles asked.

“No, of course I wouldn’t hurt you on purpose, but that’s exactly it. What if…”

“What if I told you I only wanted to have sex on Thursdays?” Stiles asked.

Derek blinked because… Stiles’ heart hadn’t skipped a beat. And maybe that was because he had phrased it as a question, but maybe it was because he really only wanted to have sex on Thursdays. Which. Okay?

“That’s fine. No sex except Thursdays.” He paused. “Though, I’m curious as to why. If you feel comfortable telling me your reasons.”

“And that’s why you shouldn’t be worried about this,” Stiles said, like he was concluding a persuasive speech.

“What? Stiles.”

“Derek. I just asked you for the most ridiculous stipulation ever and you just accepted it. You wouldn’t even have pushed for a reason if I didn’t feel comfortable giving one. I think that proves you’re willing to respect my boundaries and only do what I’m comfortable with even if it seems ridiculous or you don’t fully understand the reasoning behind it.”

So he didn’t only want to have sex on Thursdays. It had just been a test. A test he passed, but still, that didn’t mean that Derek would never do something to hurt Stiles. To break him.

“Stiles…”

“Derek,” Stiles said, standing from the couch. “I see the way you take care of people, okay. I see the concern you have for Erica, Boyd, and Isaac. I see the way you try to protect them. You might make a mistake, but everyone makes mistakes and I think this, what we have, is worth taking the risk of getting hurt, however miniscule that risk obviously is. I trust you, Derek. And I know you want this as much as I do. So can we please say we’re officially boyfriends and go upstairs and have sex already. Please?”

“Stiles,” Derek sighed again.

As if he’d called him, Stiles moved forward, sliding into Derek’s space. He pressed up against Derek’s front. “Please,” he murmured again against Derek’s jaw line.

Derek exhaled slowly. He could barely think with Stiles so close, the scent of hope and arousal pouring off of him. Stiles stood on his tiptoes, which was ridiculous since they were were almost the same height. He widened his eyes and pouted. “Please, Daddy?”

Derek growled and lifted Stiles up. Stiles squeaked and quickly wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist.

“You are going to be so spoiled,” Derek snarled.

Stiles let out a delighted laugh, as Derek carried him up the stairs. It turned into a moan as Derek started nipping and licking at his neck. He threw Stiles on the bed and eyed the purpling marks he’d left behind.

“Clothes off.”

Stiles scrambled to obey while Derek stripped himself much more efficiently. He finished just in time to catch Stiles taking off his last article of clothing. Stiles tossed away his boxers and lay spread in front of Derek like a feast. His pale skin dotted by constellations of moles. His kiss-swollen mouth open wide as he panted. The flushed head of his hard cock weeping precum.

A blush crept down Stiles chest at Derek’s scrutiny and he had to taste it. He crawled onto the bed in a way he knew made him look like a predator. He savored the way anticipation filtered through the arousal in Stiles’ scent.

“Fuck,” Stiles moaned. “Just touch me. Please.”

“Have patience,” Derek whispered against his skin.

“Patience? You want me to have patience when the hottest man I’ve ever seen is…” 

He cut off with a yelp when Derek licked a stripe across his nipple. Oh, yes, that was a nice sound. Derek wanted more of those.

Later, when they were both sated, and breathing heavily on the bed, Stiles tilted his head up. “Daddy?” he asked softly.

His tone was different. There wasn’t any teasing or seductive intent underneath. Derek replied just as gently. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can we take a bath? Please?” he added at the end as if remembering his manners.

Derek hummed and kissed Stiles’ temple. He rolled out of bed and pulled Stiles into his arms bridal style. He already knew he would never get tired of making his boyfriend make that surprised squeak.

Derek sat Stiles on the bathroom sink while he turned to fill the tub, smirking at his complaints that it was cold and felt weird and couldn’t Derek do all that while he was still holding Stiles.

“Not unless you want me to drop you,” Derek replied dryly.

“You wouldn’t drop me,” Stiles sniffed without an ounce of concern.

Derek straightened and walked over to kiss Stiles softly. He pressed a kiss to his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids, and one more to his mouth. 

“What was that for?” Stiles asked dazedly.

“I just… I appreciate how much trust you place in me. And I’ll do my best to never betray that trust,” Derek said.

Stiles leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I know.”

He glanced over at the tub and gasped. “When did you add bubbles? Where did you even get bubbles from?” 

“Stiles, the bottle was right on the edge of the tub. C’mon.”

They bathed together and for a little while settled in the steaming water, Stiles’ back to Derek’s front, his strong arms wrapped around him. They relaxed into each other, content with the warm silence and each other’s presence.

Finally, when the water was cool and Stiles began to shiver despite Derek’s body heat (he mentally noted abnormally warm and put it with all his other observations.) Stiles said, “My dad won’t be home until I have to go to school. Will you stay the night?”

“Of course,” Derek said.

They fell into bed and fitted themselves together, falling asleep in a tangle of bare skin and relaxed limbs.

-

Of course everyone knew the moment Stiles showed up at the garage the next day. It was like they could smell it on him. He said as much and noted how they all twitched. Which meant, he surmised, that they actually could smell it on him. They were all definitely something.

Derek appeared. “Stop teasing my boyfriend and get back to work,” he ordered.

Rather than do that, they all started teasing him.

“Oh thank god it’s official,” Isaac said. “I was dreading an angsty ‘are we as serious as I want us to be’ pining even though you’re already basically married phase. The pining while you weren’t together phase was bad enough.”

“Yeah, even though we all knew Derek would only be able to last so long before jumping you,” Erica said.

Stiles gave Derek an incredulous look. “Did everyone but me know you were into me?”

“Yes,” the other three said.

Derek looked heavenward as if praying for strength.

“It’s okay,” Stiles said, “I’m sure I was way more obvious about how much I like you.”

“ _Yes_ ,” the other three said again.

Stiles gave them betrayed looks.

“You made him his favorite dessert like two days after you first met, Stiles,” Erica said ruthlessly, “You were super obvious.”

Derek blinked. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, you were… I thought that was just a thank you.”

Isaac snorted. “More like Stiles begging, ‘Notice me, senpai.’”

Erica dissolved into giggles. Boyd simply smirked. Stiles and Derek looked at each other and started imagining roleplaying scenarios.

“Okay! Stop with the eyefucking! I regret saying anything. Jeeze,” Isaac complained.

“You guys are okay with this right?” Stiles asked suddenly. He knew Derek wouldn’t dump him if they weren’t, or, he was reasonably sure Derek wouldn’t dump him. Not immediately. But if there was a problem and it continued, the way the group worked might force Derek to end things. From what Stiles could tell, they all answered to him, but he answered to them just as much.

They were all looking at him now and he knew they could sense how nervous he was about the answer. He really didn’t want to be the Yoko Ono of whatever they all had going on around here. 

“We all knew it was going to happen. If we were going to object, we would’ve done it earlier,” Isaac said.

“You’ve got our seal of approval,” Erica said.

“You two are good for each other,” Boyd said quietly.

Stiles couldn’t help the way he blushed and looked shyly at Derek who was smiling fondly at him.

“Of course you two are going to be disgustingly sappy and spill feelings all over the place,” Erica said, rolling her eyes.

“Wow, like you have any room to talk considering the way you act with Boyd? I mean, really?” Stiles asked, pulled from his moment with his boyfriend.

“Yeah, but it’s cute when we do it,” Erica said fluffing her curls.

“She’s just mad she has actual competition for cutest couple now,” Isaac smirked.

“As if,” she snarled, shooting him a glare.

“We’ll try our best to avoid being cute as much as possible if it will make you feel better, Erica. Now, there’s two cars that aren’t going to fix themselves.” Derek pointed at the garage and Erica walked past him. 

“Told you you wouldn’t last long,” she whispered as she brushed past him.

Derek rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond otherwise.

She had been right after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one was disappointed with that fade to black scene... Sorry if you were! Next Monday the last chapter will be posted. Comments and kudos are life. - xoxo, inhystereks


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So I haven’t seen you around much, dude,” Scott said, settling next to Stiles at his lunch table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys, this is the end. Last chapter of this story. I hope you all like the ending. On to the story!

“So I haven’t seen you around much, dude,” Scott said, settling next to Stiles at his lunch table. 

Stiles blinked at him. That was because Scott always ignored his texts, asking if he wanted to hang out. If he didn’t ignore him, he would respond that he was hanging out with Allison or doing stuff he’d put off to spend more time with Allison. Increasingly, he was spending time with Jackson, who seemed to be getting used to Scott or something.

“Uh, yeah. Mostly because you’ve been so busy,” Stiles said. It came out more accusatory than he’d meant it to, and he didn’t understand the look Scott sent him in response.

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come hang out with us on Friday.” 

Stiles gave him a skeptical look. “Us?”

“Yeah, Lydia, Jackson, Allison, and me. And Lydia might invite someone else,” Scott said.

It was sad that Stiles almost instinctively wondered whether this was a prank. Not that he thought Scott would do something like that. But he didn’t think Scott would notice if someone else was using him to prank Stiles. Sometimes it was like the things Scott would never do or say didn’t exist for him. 

“And what would we be doing exactly?” Stiles asked.

“Just hanging out,” Scott shrugged. “Maybe catch a movie and go to the diner.”

Stiles tapped his pencil on his textbook and wondered where Isaac was. They were supposed to be studying for his history test.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“What? Why not?” Scott asked. He seemed shocked that Stiles wouldn’t immediately say yes to hanging out with him and his new posse.

“Because your friends don’t like me much, Scott. And I don’t want to spend a whole night with them ignoring me or making fun of me,” Stiles said.

“They’re not…” Scott started and then paused.

Stiles wondered what he had been about to say. They’re not just my friends? They’re not going to ignore or make fun of you?

Scott shook his head. “You’ll have fun if you come,” he said. “Please, we haven’t hung out in so long.”

Stiles had already pointed out that was Scott’s fault so he didn’t bother repeating himself. He wished he had already made concrete plans with Derek that he couldn’t get out of. But they hadn’t made anything official, just assumed they would be hanging out that night.

Months ago, he would have jumped at the chance to spend time with both his best friend and Lydia, no matter what the context. But now, he actually had people to hang out with that truly liked him and he wasn’t panting after Lydia anymore. He’d rather hang out with Scott just the two of them, if at all. But since that didn’t seem to be an option… 

“Okay. Fine. I’ll hang out with you guys this Friday. Text me to let me know the details.”

“Awesome,” Scott said. He seemed about to say something else, but then he paused. “Oh, there’s Allison. I’ll catch you later, dude."

Stiles didn’t respond. Scott was already lost to Allison haze and wouldn’t hear him anyway.

Isaac appeared out of nowhere and sat down. “Looks like you’re going to get the chance to hang out with the one and only Lydia Martin.”

Stiles didn’t ask where he’d come from or how he’d heard that. It made them skittish to know he noticed things like that. It would be much easier to figure out if they were relaxed enough to let things slip. That was how he’d figured out they were supernatural.

Instead, he sighed again. “It’s probably going to be boredom with a side of torture.”

“Not excited to spend some quality time with your crush?” Isaac asked.

Stiles gave him a sharp look. “I only have eyes for Derek. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me and not even Lydia Martin could make me forget that.”

Isaac leaned closer and nuzzled into him a bit in apology. Stiles stroked a hand through his curls to let him know he was forgiven.

“The funny thing is, I was actually trying to think of ways out of it. It seems weird that I would all of a sudden be invited to hang out when they’ve made it clear they don’t want me around,” Stiles said.

Isaac’s eyes widened. “You don’t think they’re pranking you, do you?” 

“No. I don’t know,” Stiles said. He petted Isaac some more to calm him down. “I’ll be fine, Isaac. Don’t worry about me. We should focus on studying.”

Isaac allowed himself to be soothed and distracted. He really did need to study for that test and Stiles was so smart and helpful when they were studying.

That afternoon, Derek greeted Stiles with his usual hello kiss, but then immediately fixed him with a serious look.

“Isaac told me to ask you about Friday. He seemed worried, but didn’t want to tell me what was wrong and told me to talk to you. What’s going on?”

Stiles sighed. “Scott invited me to hang out with him, Allison, Jackson, and Lydia next Friday. I mentioned that it seemed random and Isaac was concerned it was a prank. He was also worried I would fall back into old habits, meaning being enamored by everything Lydia Martin, but I reminded him that you’re my one and only and I wouldn’t risk what we have for anything, including Lydia Martin.”

Derek pulled him in by his belt loops and kissed him hard.

“Better remember who you belong to, brat,” he growled.

“Always, Daddy,” Stiles murmured.

Derek kissed him again, more softly. “Do you think Scott would do that to you?” he asked, stroking a hand along Stiles’ spine.

“No, but he’s pretty oblivious, so I wouldn’t expect him to pick up on someone manipulating him into something like that.”

“Are you sure you want to go?” Derek asked.

“No. But I don’t want to blow it off if this is Scott making an effort,” Stiles replied.

Derek made a sound in his throat which he conveyed to Stiles that he thought Scott should get a taste of his own medicine. 

“Yes, I know how you feel about it,” Stiles said, kissing the crease between his brows. “I’ll be fine. And if I’m not, I’ll call you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Derek said, clearly reluctant, but willing to let Stiles handle things his own way.

On Friday, Scott texted Stiles an hour before he was supposed to start heading out. Which he didn’t mind as much as he probably should have. After all, he wasn’t trying to impress anyone that night. He didn’t have to frantically figure out what he was going to wear or plan witty dialogue in his head. He was actually hoping the night would end early so he could maybe spend some time with his boyfriend. He could text his dad that he was spending the night at Scott’s.

Derek had acted like tonight wasn’t a big deal, but Stiles could sense a bit of possessiveness, underneath his cool exterior. He’d noticed that Derek liked leaving marks on him, and Stiles very much enjoyed that. Maybe Derek would need to mark him up if he went over tonight.

Stiles was still contemplating what he could do to provoke his boyfriend when he walked into the theater. They were all there, plus a girl he recognized from school, and it clicked in Stiles’ head that this was a triple date.

Well, at least he knew how to trigger Derek’s possessiveness.

He hoped to god, the girl was one of the bitchy types who wouldn’t want to give him the time of day.

Scott and Allison were canoodling, as usual, so Jackson, Lydia, and the girl (her name started with an S, he was pretty sure) noticed him approach. The girl gave him an unimpressed look, which suited him just fine. It would be less embarrassing for both of them if she wasn’t interested.

“Hey,” he said, stopping in front of them. He started counting how long it would take for Scott and Allison to know he was there. 

“Stiles,” Lydia said, wrinkling her nose slightly, “This is my friend Sofie.”

“Hello, Sofie,” Stiles said. He had been right. Her name did start with an S.

“Did you already get your ticket?” Lydia asked after a moment in which Sofie didn’t respond to Stiles’ greeting.

“Well, Scott only texted me to meet here like an hour ago and he didn’t let me know what movie we’re supposed to see. So, no,” Stiles replied.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Should’ve told him Allison wanted him to give you details. Then he wouldn’t have forgotten. Well. Sofie hasn’t gotten her ticket either. You two go stand in line.”

Stiles opened his mouth, but Lydia just shooed him again. He rolled his eyes, not noticing the surprised look that crossed their faces at that action. He gestured for Sofie to go ahead of him. Scott and Allison hadn’t seemed to notice his arrival at all.

They stood in line and Stiles was finally able to ask what movie they were seeing. A romantic comedy Stiles could guess the plot of from the title. He huffed a little.

“Oh, are you one of those boys that things rom-coms are only for girls?” Sofie scoffed.

“Nooo,” Stiles drawled. “I just don’t like movies that are super predictable. Rom-coms are fine, and can be really good, but it depends on the actors and the dialogue to make it interesting. I don’t think this one is going to be one of the interesting ones.”

Sofie was giving him a speculative look now and Stiles wondered if maybe he should have acted like a sexist asshole instead.

When they got back with their tickets, Lydia finally broke apart Scott and Allison so they could go find their seats.

“Oh, Stiles, when did you get here?” Scott asked.

“Literally ten minutes ago,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes again.

Allison had the decency to look embarrassed. Scott just grinned and shrugged, sending a soppy look Allison’s way like he just couldn’t help getting lost in her. 

Stiles would need to get confirmation from Isaac that he and Derek weren’t this bad. He might have to shoot himself if they were anywhere near as obnoxious.

The movie was fine. More interesting than he had expected, though nothing spectacular. Sofie drew him into a conversation about it, which he willingly participated in until she actually started flirting with him, then he pulled back. They were at the diner. Sofie seemed to have taken the hint, though it clearly annoyed her that Stiles wasn’t interested even though she hadn’t been interested initially either. Jackson had shot down his one attempt to join the conversation, so without Sofie to talk to, he was just on the fringes of the group. Again.

There wasn’t any point in trying to engage Scott while Allison was there and he didn’t really care about any of the others.

Stiles just pulled out his phone, texting Derek, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd his commentary on the conversation around him in their group chat. At least that way he could be entertained.

“I really hope you both are texting each other,” Lydia said coldly, “Because otherwise, you’re being extremely rude.”

“Oh, sorry,” Stiles said sarcastically, “I would have thought I didn’t have the social capital to participate in this scintillating conversation.”

Lydia’s eyebrows went up.

“Hey, look at that,” Jackson sneered. “Stilinski finally recognizes his place.”

“His place?”

They all looked up to see Derek Hale. And they were all struck speechless at the sight of the man the town believed had murdered the owner of the mechanic shop and gotten away with it standing there before them.

Except Stiles of course.

“Hey,” he said, with happy surprise. “What are you doing here?” 

Derek gestured to Stiles’ phone. “You were clearly bored.”

Stiles had been texting Derek Hale. 

If he had been paying any attention to the others, Stiles would have been amused by the reactions as understanding rippled across the group that Derek was there for him.

“And you thought you’d come kidnap me, huh, you creep,” Stiles said. He sounded exasperated, but Derek could scent how pleased he was.

“Yes. This is me kidnapping you,” Derek said flatly.

“Well, you’re doing a fabulous job,” Stiles smirked. “I feel very kidnapped right now.”

Derek rolled his eyes and held out a hand which Stiles took easily.

He stopped to look back at the others who were still stuck staring in shock. “Apparently, I’m being kidnapped. I’ll see you guys whenever my captor decides to release me.”

Derek ran an eye around the group. “You’ll never see him again.”

Their eyes widened and Scott at least finally opened his mouth to protest. But Stiles just laughed.

“Stop freaking them out, you asshole. You’ll give one of them a heart attack.”

Derek pinned Scott with a look that said he wouldn’t necessarily mind if he was in the hospital for one reason or another.

“Yes, yes, we all know you’re scary. Are the others meeting us somewhere? Erica said something cryptic just before you showed up,” Stiles said as he dragged Derek away.

Lydia exhaled slowly and turned to Scott to demand an explanation for why she hadn’t been privy to the knowledge that Stiles was fucking Derek Hale. But Scott looked just as confused and shocked as the rest of them. And that was when she realized how truly Scott had believed all of Jackson’s bullshit about Stiles making up stories because he was jealous. 

Whatever. It didn’t even matter. They were clearly trying to keep it a secret, which meant probably only Derek’s friends knew for sure. And her. Because she had no doubt those two were having sex. No wonder Stiles hadn’t jumped at Sofie and had hardly looked at her.

“You said he was making it all up,” Scott accused Jackson.

Jackson just rolled his eyes. “He’s your best friend, Scott. Would he lie about something like that?”

Scott’s expression twisted with anger and hurt. Lydia did not want to be the one to deal with that.

“Tonight’s been fun,” she said, “But I’m kind of tired.”

“Same,” Sofie said.

Jackson huffed and rolled his eyes, but stood immediately. “I’ll take you guys home.”

Lydia had to keep from rolling her own eyes at him pretending he wasn’t desperate to get away from evidence of Stiles being cool enough to be one of Derek Hale’s chosen.

They left Allison behind to deal with her distraught boyfriend.

-

They drove to the Hale house because Stiles’ dad was going to be home that night.

“Thanks for saving me,” Stiles said.

Derek shrugged. “I’d much rather have you all to myself than with people that don’t appreciate you. Especially when you don’t want to be with them either.”

“Still appreciate it,” Stiles said easily. He grinned when Derek smiled in comfortable silence until they got to Derek’s house. As they got out of the car, Derek looked up. Stiles followed his gaze to the moon. It would be full in a couple days…

His gaze snapped to Derek as everything crystallized in his mind.

“Oh, shit, you’re a werewolf,” he blurted.

Derek’s head snapped in his direction so quickly Stiles was sure he heard something crack. His eyes were wide with confusion and panic.

Stiles winced. “Whoops. Sorry. I was trying to wait until you were ready to tell me.”

Derek was very still, watching Stiles with an expression he wasn’t familiar with. It took him a minute to realize Derek was trying to figure out whether or not Stiles was afraid of him.

“I’m not scared of you, Derek,” Stiles said, stepping forward and deliberately placing himself in Derek’s space.

Derek tilted his head as if listening closely to something, so Stiles said it again.

“I’m not scared of you.”

Finally, Derek relaxed and pulled him close.

“How long have you known?” he asked.

“That you’re a werewolf? I just figured it out. But I’ve known you were supernatural for a while,” Stiles said.

“How?” Derek asked.

Stiles gave him an unimpressed look. “Dude, the first night we met, you figured out what was wrong with my car in the dark with no light.”

“Most people would just dismiss that as good night vision,” Derek said resignedly, like of course Stiles would be out of the norm.

“Well, I did, but I’m not most people, so when I noticed other things, I didn’t just dismiss them. I tried to fit it all together,” Stiles said.

“Of course you did. And of course you managed to get it right,” Derek said rubbing a thumb down Stiles neck.

“You do scent mark me a lot,” Stiles pointed out. “And I’ve never seen someone look at the moon the way you just did.” 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re too smart for your own good?” Derek asked like he hadn’t told Stiles that two days ago.

“Yes,” Stiles smirked. “I have been told that. Often, one might say.”

Derek tilted Stiles’ face up. “You really don’t mind?” he asked carefully. He was always so careful with Stiles.

“I don’t mind. But I do have a lot of questions. And I fully expect all of them to be answered,” Stiles said. 

Derek laughed and led him to the house. “Questions like…” he prompted.

“Like do you have a knot?” 

Derek tripped up the steps to the front door.

“Of course that’s your first question,” he said, tone pure fond exasperation.

“I’ve got my priorities straight, Sourwolf,” Stiles said. He stopped. “Holy shit, I called you that the first night we met. Oh my god, I really am your Little Red Riding Hood?!”

Derek laughed. He laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe. When he calmed, Stiles was smiling at him, his happiness clear and brighter than the moon.

He stepped close and pressed a hand to Derek’s chest. 

“My, my, Wolf. What a strong heart you have.” 

Derek smiled. He couldn’t help it in the face of this ridiculous, addictive boy.

“The better to love you with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who has been reading from the beginning. Thank you for sticking with this story. Thank you for all of your lovely, heartwarming comments. You all are so amazing, and I'm honored to have wonderful people such as yourselves appreciate my writing. If you like this fic, but aren't inclined to kudos or comment, recommend it to someone. Otherwise, kudos and comments are life! - xoxo, inhystereks

**Author's Note:**

> This story is completed and betaed and will be updated weekly on Thursdays. Kudos and comments make my whole life. I hope you liked the first chapter! - xoxo, inhystereks


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